The Wedding Announcement
by Converser18
Summary: Santana hated reading the wedding announcements because they reminded her of what she could never have.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at a Brittana fic. I've read about a hundred of them, so I wanted to try to write one myself. This is probably more for me than anyone else. **

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><p>Santana Lopez sat at the local coffee shop with the Sunday paper laid out on the table in front of her. Every couple of minutes, she would reach for her coffee and take a sip of the scalding hot, blissfully comforting drink. She read the front-page headlines while she occasionally let her gaze wander outside to the falling snow that was slowly blanketing the city. She fucking hated the snow with a searing passion; the snow reminded her of Lima and all the shit that had happened to her growing up.<p>

Santana had lost her father when she was thirteen. He had died of Leukemia, and Santana had watched the disease gradually take over his body and break him until there was nothing left. Three months later, her mother started drinking, and despite Santana's pleading and begging, had become an alcoholic who refused help from even her closest family members.

As soon as Santana had graduated high school, she had packed up her Jeep and took off for her new life in New York. She was ready to forget her past and move on.

As Santana finished her large cup of coffee, she had made it to her least favorite section of the paper: the Style section. The wedding announcements always made her feel sick to her stomach. _Thank god it's only on Sundays_ she thought to herself as she got up to fetch another cup of caffeine. Every morning for the past three years, Santana would take her New York Times down the street to Earl's and read the paper while she drank her regular two cups of black coffee.

"Another?" Jake, the young boy behind the counter asked her as she handed him her cup.

"As always," she said, and gave him a warm smile.

As she waited for him to fill up her cup, she glanced around the store and noticed that it was oddly empty; Sundays were usually very busy.

"I guess people are afraid to go out in the snow," Jake shrugged his shoulders as he reached over the counter to hand Santana her coffee.

"Hmmm, maybe," she considered for a second. The snow hadn't let up for a few hours, and she wondered if they were expecting a particularly harsh storm. "Thanks, Jake," she gave him a nod and turned around to return to her seat at her table as she took a sip of the hot drink.

At this point in her morning, Santana would usually turn over the paper to work on the crossword puzzle, but she had a nagging feeling to skim the Style section._ Fuck it._ She turned the paper over and let her eyes wander across the page. The couples all looked the same to her: fucking ridiculously happy. She couldn't stand to look at their faces because they seemed to remind her of the one thing she was sure she could never have. Santana was determined that she could never fall in love, ever. _Again._

As her eyes reached the bottom of the page, though, she caught her breath.

She had lived in New York for five years; she had been in the city for too long to let her mind wander back to her youth. Yet, here was the one person that she hadn't let herself think about in forever, on the page of the New York Times with a man she knew, a man she knew very, very well.

She sat back in her chair and continued to stare at the two people that were hugging and smiling at each other, like there was nothing in the world that could make them happier. Santana could feel her skin begin to burn and her stomach begin to churn, but she couldn't look away from the woman in the picture. She knew the girl; she fucking knew the girl like the back of her hand. At least, she used to.

She looked beneath the photo to the words that were typed out.

**Brittany Susan Pierce and Nathan Anderson Berk were married on January 4, 2012. Nathan Berk, son of the city's mayor, is currently at law school at NYU. Brittany Pierce is studying dance at Juilliard. The couple married in front of their friends and family on Long Island at a family church of the groom's. They plan to spend their honeymoon next month in Paris. **

Santana nearly choked on her own spit as she finished reading the caption. She couldn't believe that Brittany was in New York, let alone married to one of her old classmates. It had been a year since she had seen Nathan, and she hadn't thought about him in a while. They had dated for a couple of months during their last year as undergrads at NYU, but Santana had broken up with him. He was a nice guy, but she couldn't stay with him because he wasn't _her._

Santana started to feel a little faint, as the color drained from her face. _How fucking messed up is this?_ She asked herself. She groaned out loud as she turned the paper over and crumpled it up in her hands. She threw it over at the trashcan sitting a few feet away from her.

"Something wrong?" Jake asked, as he raised a questioning eye.

Santana got up from her seat with her coffee in hand and turned to leave. "Just the god damn world!" she shouted over her shoulder, raising her free hand up in the air. She could hear the quiet chuckles from Jake behind her as she stepped out into the cold January winter.

Immediately, she felt the inside of her coat pocket begin to vibrate. She removed her iphone as she started walking back to her apartment down the street. There was a text message from her best friend.

_U have to call me. I read something in the paper this morning that I think u may want to know about. –Quinn_

Santana rolled her eyes at her friend's timing. She decided to text Quinn back, instead. She didn't want to have a conversation about how fucked up her life was with someone who would just make her feel worse.

_I know, Quinn. Don't worry about me, I'm fine. –Santana_

This was a lie, of course. Santana was sure that she would go home and drown herself in work for the next few days. There was no way that she was going to let herself end up thinking about her old boyfriend and the stinking love of her life in _that_ way. If she did, she might end up drinking, and that was the one thing that she had a taboo about. With her mom's alcoholic state, she felt like she could just as easily end up in that hole as well.

As she approached her apartment, she felt her phone buzz again. She sighed heavily, as she pulled out her phone.

_There's more…she wants me to give her your number. –Quinn_

_No fucking way, Q. –Santana_

There was no way that she could be convinced to see Brittany again. _Especially _since she was now married.

She opened the door to her apartment building and began walking up the apartment stairs, still taking occasional sips from her coffee cup.

_Yeah, I didn't. But then she kinda tricked me into telling her where u live. –Quinn_

As Santana bounded up the last flight of stairs, she hadn't read the final text message that her best friend had sent. If she had, she could have prepared herself for a surprise. She could have turned around and ran in the other direction. She could have made up an excuse as to why she didn't have to come back to her apartment to work.

Instead, she found herself staring at a beautiful blond who was standing in front of her apartment door. It was the same blond that she had seen in the newspaper only moments ago. It was the same blond that she had been so sure she would never see again.

"Santana," the blond-haired beauty sighed as she smiled at the stunned brunette.

At that moment Santana realized that she had been right; she _could_ never fall in love, ever. _Again._


	2. Chapter 2

**I thought I'd put up the next chapter quickly because I've already written most of this story and I don't know the next time I'll be able to update. This chapter's slightly longer. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.**

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><p>Santana couldn't speak; she couldn't move. All she could do was stand and stare. As soon as she had seen and recognized the woman, she had lost all brain functions. It was like being yanked back into the memories of the past—beautiful, dazzling memories.<p>

"I'm sorry to show up out of the blue like this, but I wanted to find you and see how you're doing," she gave another warm smile that only aided in the continued deterioration of Santana's basic processes.

"Uuhhhh…" Santana managed to get out. She was lucky anything came out at all.

"It's been a while, hasn't it? What, like four years?" Brittany thought out loud.

"Five," Santana corrected, immediately amazed that she had managed to say a word this time.

"Yeah," Brittany agreed. Her expression turned blanker in response to the Latina's bewildered look. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She hadn't realized that it may not have been the best idea to just show up randomly.

Santana's eyes were observing the blond critically. Santana thought that she looked different. _Better_ different. She seemed older and more mature looking. Yet, there was still something so innocent about her eyes. They were still a sparkling blue that mesmerized her completely. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. She was still as tall, lean, and fit as she was back in high school. She obviously hadn't been deterred from her passion for dancing.

Slowly, Santana's thoughts began to form coherently, and she decided that she wanted to risk saying something.

"I saw the announcement in the paper. The uh…wedding announcement," Santana's voice was quiet, shy. Brittany had only barely heard it.

Santana wondered if she should have said something else. It seemed like she was just jumping right into the inevitable.

"Oh…?" It sort of came out as a squeak. Brittany's face seemed to turn sad, suddenly.

"I was kinda hoping that you hadn't," Brittany continued. "Actually, that's sort of why I'm here."

"To tell me that you got married?" Santana hadn't meant for it to come out angrily, but it had. She seemed to show her frustration, because the blonde's face drooped even more.

"I guess?" she seemed to question her own answer.

Santana pulled out her keys from her pocket and moved towards the blond and the entrance into her apartment. As soon as Brittany realized that Santana was trying to open the door, she stepped out of the way and waited for the brunette to turn the key into the lock.

After Santana had unlocked the door she turned back to Brittany with the same look of disbelief still on her face.

"Do you want to come inside?" Santana asked. She had momentarily debated inviting Brittany into her home, but she realized that she would feel more comfortable having this conversation in her own living room.

Brittany only nodded and followed Santana.

When Brittany had stepped far enough inside the entryway, Santana shut the door behind them and snaked off her jacket to hang it on the nearby rack. She turned around to look at the blond who was studying the apartment, searching for some clue that Santana was the same person the blond had known in high school.

"It's nice," Brittany stated as Santana walked past her and into the living area. Brittany seemed to act surprised.

Santana's apartment was _very_ nice, considering she lived on the Upper East Side. Then again, Santana had a lot of money that she was sure Brittany knew nothing about.

The apartment was one story with a loft. She had an open floor plan with a comfy living room to the right and a fairly large kitchen on the left side. The walls were white and contained no pictures or paintings; they were just bare. Behind the space, a window took up practically the whole wall. You could barely see central park because of the snow storm.

The kitchen was beautiful. The lightly-stained wood and dark granite countertops contrasted nicely. The island in the middle was huge and contained a large stove top.

The apartment was also extremely neat and clean. There wasn't one thing that looked out of place. Brittany looked confused.

"Are you sure you live here?" she asked, being both funny and serious. She joined Santana in the living room; she was already seated on the couch. Santana had placed her coffee on the coffee table in front of her.

"Yeah, that's kinda the point," Santana stated, matter-of-factly.

As Brittany sat down, Santana felt a sudden overwhelming need to move around again. She stood up abruptly and looked around her apartment.

"I…uh…have to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back," she hurried away from Brittany and down the hallway to the restroom.

As she shut the door behind her, she took a deep breath in and stared at herself in the mirror perched on the wall in front of her. She could barely recognize herself. Her eyes were wide with a look of terror. Her body was shaking and her heart was racing so fast she was sure that she would soon pass out.

She moved to the vanity and turned on the faucet, cupping her hands beneath the running water. She quickly splashed the water over her face, relieving some of the burning that she had been feeling across her skin.

She looked up at herself in the mirror again. _Calm the fuck down, Lopez. You can do this._

She silently told herself that hiding in her bathroom was making her look weak and pathetic. She needed to catch a hold of her breath and return to her company outside.

She grabbed a towel off the shelf and dried her face. She took a deep, calming breath and turned around to walk out the door.

When Santana had reached her living room again, she noticed that Brittany was no longer lounging on her sofa. She turned in circles, hoping to find her somewhere near. Santana silently scolded herself for leaving the blond free to wander about her private space.

"Brittany?" she called out, hoping that she hadn't ran out.

"Yeah. I'm up here," Brittany called back, from above.

Santana's eyes darted up to the space above her. _Shit. Fuck. Dammit. Holy Mother of Pearl!_

A whole, never ending string of curse words flew through her head. This was _exactly_ the reason why she should never leave guests alone in her home.

Santana immediately dashed for the spiral, metal staircase at the corner of the room that led to the loft upstairs. She ascended two steps at a time, until she was standing in her office. Her eyes found Brittany, who was leaning over her desk.

She rushed forward until she was standing by Brittany's side.

"Uhhh, you can't be up here," she stated, trying her best to get Brittany to turn her eyes away and lock contact with her.

Brittany was startled and turned swiftly to look at the brunette. She hadn't realized how close Santana was standing, but when she did, she gulped. There faces were merely a few inches apart, and they could see the smallest features on each other.

Santana stopped breathing and stared. She hated this more than she could even mentally describe. Being _this_ close to Brittany was going to kill her. So, she took two steps back and gasped for air.

"This is kinda private, so…I was…hoping that we could go back downstairs," she said, her voice was unsure.

Brittany turned around and looked at the massive piles of papers and boxes scattered around the room. "I didn't realize that you were a writer," she stated.

Santana took another deep breath. She _had _been writing. In fact, she had been writing so damn much lately that she thought she was going to run out of space to keep her thoughts.

"Yeah, I've been writing since I graduated from NYU," she admitted, feeling a little embarrassed.

Brittany turned back to face Santana. Now a look of bafflement covered the blonde's face.

"How can you afford to live _here_ on a writer's salary? Are you published? Can I read something?"

One thing that Santana had always loved about Brittany was her bluntness. There were often no boundaries when it came to the blond. Santana loved this because she never had to second guess what the other girl was thinking. Brittany always told Santana exactly what was on her mind.

After Brittany had blurted out these rather pressing questions, Santana soon found that she kind of hated this trait of the blond. She definitely did _not _want to have to answer _any _of these questions.

"I'm not published, no. And, I think that we should get talking about the reason that _you're_ here," Santana expertly redirected the conversation.

Brittany's face seemed to fall sad, once again.

"I wanted to tell you that I got married," she said.

Santana's eyes darted to the blonde's left hand. There, nestled on a beautiful, slender finger, was a gorgeous ring that screamed everything about Brittany. It was elegant; simple, yet beautiful. The diamond was rather large, and the wedding band that accompanied it was sparkling with mini stones.

"It's beautiful," Santana acknowledged, nodding to the ring she had been staring at. "It's so…you," she admitted.

"Thanks," Brittany stated, shyly.

"You probably don't know this, but I know your...husband," the last word had been a struggle for Santana to say. She was going to have to either get used to the idea that Brittany was married or she was going to have to completely erase her again. The latter was going to be particularly difficult since Brittany was standing right in front of the brunette, staring.

The blond shot a confused look at Santana. "You know Nathan?" she asked.

Santana coughed and brought her hand to her face to wipe away the hair that had fallen in front of her right eye.

"Uh…yeah," she answered. "We were at NYU together. He was in some of my classes. I guess you could say that we kind of became friends," she shrugged her shoulders and smiled at Brittany.

Brittany's breath caught at the change in expression. It had been the first time in their visit that the brunette had smiled.

"Hmmm, he never mentioned a Santana. I think I would have remembered if he did," she smiled back.

Santana was partly hurt that her name hadn't come up in any of the couple's conversations. It wasn't like Brittany couldn't have told him about her either.

"We weren't really close, I guess," she lied. She had in fact been _really_ close to Nathan. Before they had had there brief fling, they had been really close friends. She seemed to think that Nathan harbored some resentment towards her after her sudden break-up. Apparently, he hadn't seen it coming.

Santana let her mind drift back to memories of the two of them at his father's house in the Hamptons. They had spent a whole summer there together after sophomore year. Santana had invited Quinn along as well, and they had had a really amazing time.

"Yeah, that's probably it," Brittany agreed.

Santana stood staring awkwardly at Brittany for the thousandth time that morning. She still couldn't believe that the blond was standing in her apartment. She was extra flustered because of Brittany's close proximity. If Santana knew one thing for sure, it was that she was still just as much in love with Brittany as she had been a few years ago.

"Do you want something to eat or drink?" Santana asked, hoping that they could leave the loft. As much as she loved Brittany, she was definitely not comfortable with her _this_ close to her personal thoughts and words that were plastered across the room.

"Sure, do you have any tea?" Brittany asked.

"I think I can find some," Santana assured her and turned around to walk back down the spiral staircase. She turned back around as she began descending and found Brittany looking around the loft again. "You coming?" she called out, startling the blond again.

"Yeah," Brittany smiled as she walked away from the desk and followed Santana down the steps.

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><p>They were in the kitchen. Santana was sitting on top of the island, with her legs crossed, and Brittany was staring up at her from the bar stool. They had spent the last few hours talking about random things anywhere from the upcoming presidential election to the last Harry Potter movie. They seemed to skirt around anything that could link to their past together. Santana was glad that Brittany didn't want to bring it up. She was sure that if they went <em>there<em>, there was bound to be major tension and awkwardness.

Santana was comfortable with Brittany. She hadn't expected that. She had thought that no matter what they said to each other, there was always going to be a giant elephant in the room that would bug her relentlessly.

What she found, was that her and Brittany just _clicked_. It was like high school all over again (before the major drama). They were far from being best friends again, but at least there was comfort in knowing that they could get along.

"How's Quinn?" Brittany asked as she sipped the tea from her cup.

Santana froze for a second. This was possibly dangerous territory. Quinn had been friends with them in high school. In fact, Quinn was the only person that Santana had contact with from back home, excluding Brittany. After high school and all the drama with Britt, Quinn had been there for Santana. She had even moved out to New York to be with her.

"She's at law school at Columbia," she answered, hesitantly.

Brittany nodded her head. "Impressive," she stated.

"Yeah, she's doing really great," Santana agreed.

There was a silence between them, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable. Santana felt oddly relaxed and at ease.

"And…how are you?" Brittany asked. Her eyes screamed with concern, Santana immediately dropped her head to her own cup of tea.

"I'm…okay," she said calmly. She wasn't lying because she _was_ okay. She _would_ have been lying if she had said she was happy or pleased with how her life was turning out. She would have also been lying if she had said that she was miserable and hated everyone and everything that surrounded her. Santana was simply okay.

"You're different," Brittany stated, bluntly.

Santana looked down at her with sincere, caring eyes. "How so?"

"You're…I don't know…" she continued to stare at Santana, as if the answer would come to her. "Composed, less…snarky," Brittany finished and smiled.

Santana quickly laughed at the blonde's observation. "I'm really not," she contradicted.

"Yeah, you are. It's…nice," Brittany immediately replied. "Even though it's just me, I can tell that you've changed."

Santana considered Brittany's words for a few seconds. Maybe she _had _changed. She didn't hate _everyone_ anymore. She actually liked most people she met. New York had taught her that being "snarky" wouldn't get her any respect from the real world. She just hadn't realized how much she had matured.

"I guess you're kinda right," Santana took a sip of her tea and smiled at Brittany.

"I'm mostly right these days," she winked at Santana, causing the other girl to chuckle.

Santana turned to look at the clock above her sink. She almost gasped when she read what time it was.

"I guess that's sort of my cue that I need to get going," Brittney said after she had watched the brunette turn her head to read the clock.

"Are you sure?" Santana asked, with slightly hurt eyes. She was surprisingly comfortable and really didn't want Brittany to leave.

"Yeah, I told Nathan that I would be home at twelve and it's two already," she laughed. As she got up, Santana jumped off the counter and took the two cups to place them in the sink. "It was really great to see you Santana. It reminded me of old times," she finished.

Santana froze with her back to the blond. It was the first time during their entire visit that either one of them had mentioned anything about their history. She didn't want to turn around because she knew that the blonde was hinting at something that made Santana _very_ uncomfortable.

She felt a hand on her shoulder before she even realized that Brittany had moved behind of her. "Can I see you again?" Brittany asked.

Santana turned around so that she was facing Brittany, with their faces close again. She could feel Brittany's sweet breath on her lips and she felt her legs go a little weak.

"I…don't think that that would be a good idea, B" she confessed, feeling slightly mad at her own words.

"Why not?" Brittany whined and her expression fell.

_She's _still_ adorable when she pouts._

"You know why Brittany." Santana's face was now serious. She didn't want to get into this when she was so close to the other girl, so she turned and let her eyes wander to the window that was fogged up completely.

"Okay, S," she whispered and leaned forward to lay a gentle kiss on Santana's cheek. The brunette's breath caught and she sighed.

As the blonde began to step into her shoes and put on her jacket, Santana turned back to face her.

"Britt, are you happy?" she asked, and the blond gave her a questioning look. "With Nathan. Are you happy with him?" she clarified.

Brittany thought about it for a second before answering. "Yeah," she said. "I am; he's a really great guy," she smiled at the thought.

Santana felt relieved and grinned. She was going to tell Brittany that she was happy for her, as they made their way to the front of the apartment. But as Santana opened the door so Brittany could leave, the blond didn't give her the chance.

"I was happier with you, though," she admitted and put her arms around Santana. The Latina couldn't move from the spot, she was surrounded by the sweetest scent in the world. The lilacs and strawberries that Santana could smell radiating off of Brittany felt amazing. She couldn't even comprehend the words that the blond had said, because all she could do was _feel. _The only thing that Santana could think about was the soft arms around her waist and the _goddamn_ lilacs and strawberries.


	3. Chapter 3

The sky had cleared, but the snow had left a dangerous mess in the city. Santana watched the various people walking and hurrying around beneath her. She sat perched on the window sill, peering out the glass wall. It was late, and Santana hadn't moved from her spot for hours.

Though it was dark, the street lamps were casting a translucent-like glow on the snow. The whole city seemed to be shining with a dazzling brightness.

This image had placed the Latina in a trance that she couldn't shake out of. Her mind was fully occupied with thoughts that were both haunting and beautiful.

Santana was remembering. She had opened herself up to the memories that had been pushed away and avoided for so long. It was as if a dam had broken inside her mind, and her emotions had come pouring out. When, five years ago, Santana had decided that she wanted to forget her past, she had also placed a protective bearing around her feelings. She had not been _fully_ emotionally available for years.

She had known what her vacation into the past would entitle. Her streaked, teary face was evidence of this fact.

A random observer would have looked at her with pity and identified the despondency within her stunning chocolate-colored eyes. To Santana, though, this trip down memory lane was stunning.

She could remember her father's face, and this had surprised her. She could recall the scent of his cologne. She could remember the feel of his arms around her, and she could hear his laughter ringing in her ears. After ten years, she could still picture everything about him. When he had died, she had mentally frozen every small detail about her father and pushed it into the smallest storage space in the back of her mind. Not a single feature had escaped her memory box. Santana had smiled as soon as these memories had raced back to her.

Unfortunately, she could also remember her mother's harsh, callous words. She could recollect the hundreds of times, after her father's passing, that she had come home and found the smell of alcohol on her mother's breath too acrid. She could recall the cries and shouts that had been exchanged between the two of them. Every night, Santana would end up in her room with the door locked, and planning her escape. Her _escape._

And finally, Santana could remember every touch, every word, smile, laugh, and exquisite look that she had received from the one person who had meant the world to her, the one person who _still_ meant the world to her. The blond-haired beauty who had graced her presence only hours ago and had blown her away for the millionth time in her life. She could remember every time she had snuck out of her house to seek refuge in the other girl's arms. Brittany would always tell her the same thing: _She doesn't mean what she says, San. I _know_ she loves you._ Brittany would whisper these words in her ear as she embraced her with welcoming warmth. Santana would tremble and shake with sobs, while Brittany would rub her back until she silenced.

Santana thought back to their numerous sleepovers; all of which had ended with the two of them curled up in the blonde's bed. Some nights, they were only innocent teenagers who simply enjoyed the presence of their best friend so close. They would put their soft, fleece pajamas on and simply hold each other until they fell asleep. They would watch cheesy television shows that Brittany had become completely engrossed in as a younger girl until they let their tired, heavy eyelids fall shut. They would talk for hours, always saying the first things that popped into their minds. Eventually, their conversation would die down and one of the girls would fall asleep. Whenever Brittany was the first to tumble into a peaceful rest, Santana would lean over and place a soft kiss on the blonde's forehead. It had become somewhat of a habit. She would then snuggle up to the other girl and follow her best friend into a calm slumber.

Other nights were less than innocent, but just as special to Santana. Soft touches and kisses would burn her skin until she was writhing for the blond to give her the relief she so desperately begged for. Santana would lie gasping as she came down from the breathtakingly astonishing climax and grace Brittany with a magnificent smile that said so much more than words. Then, Santana would spend hours memorizing every inch of the perfect body that lay beneath her. She would cherish and worship the soft skin beneath her fingers and lips even after the other girl had shook with long, rolling waves of pleasure. Over and over, she would bring the blond to a dazzling high and continue to pleasure her until Brittany would beg her to stop. When the sweat-covered beauty had fallen asleep next to her, Santana thought that she would never be happier with anyone else. She would drift into unconsciousness listening to the breathing of the girl she would love for the rest of her life.

But just like her father's health and her mother's composure and care, Santana's relationship with Brittany had fallen apart until nothing was left. Nothing except Santana's unwavering love for the girl. But, Santana had broken Brittany's heart in a way that couldn't be mended with apologies and never ending love letters. No matter what Santana tried, Brittany couldn't forgive what she had done.

On Santana's last birthday before she had left for New York, she had been settled on the window seat in her room staring out at the starry night sky. She had turned when she heard knocks on the door to her bedroom. Standing in the threshold was the most gorgeous girl Santana had seen in her entire life and it took her breath away.

Brittany hadn't said anything. She had simply come into the brunette's room, shut the door closed behind her, and began removing her clothes until she was standing completely bare in front of Santana. Though Santana had wanted to gaze over the perfection displayed only a few feet away, her eyes had managed to stay connected with the blonde's own blue orbs. She was searching for something, anything, that wasn't heartbreak.

Brittany hadn't given her the chance. Instead, the blond had moved towards the Latina and kissed her like it was the last moment of her life and Santana was the one person who could hold on to her. Dangling on the verge of finality, Santana had grabbed the body of the girl and carried her to her bed. She then made love to Brittany, hoping to heal the girl in the most intimate way.

After, when Santana lay on her bed, breathless from her shattering high, she watched the love of her life get up and start dressing. Though she was completely naked and exposed to the other girl, she couldn't move from her spot; she knew what was about to happen.

The blond had turned around and looked at Santana with ferocity and adoration. Though Santana couldn't understand how Brittany had managed to express _so_ much emotion in one glance, she smiled at her lover.

Brittany continued to stare, not letting her lips turn up into the same expression that Santana had held. Santana had recognized the hurt in the other girl and she knew that she was still far from being forgiven of her wrongs.

"Happy birthday, Santana," Brittany had spoken before she had walked out of the Latina's bedroom and out of Santana's life.

Those had been the last words that Brittany had shared with Santana before the Latina had left Ohio. That had been the last time that Santana had seen Brittany's face. The pain that was so easily sketched across Brittany's expression had been too much for the Latina to handle. She couldn't understand how the blond still looked so tormented after the beauty they had shared only moments before. That pain was worse than the ache of separation, Santana had learned. She would rather not have Brittany at all than a Brittany that was so disappointed and agonized.

Santana wiped the trail of tears off her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweatshirt as she continued to gaze out the window. There were fewer people walking about due to the late hour. She couldn't decide if she wanted to go to bed or not. She was exhausted from the emotionally draining day she had experienced, yet she didn't want to risk falling asleep and dreaming.

Santana considered taking a few pills to help her fall into a quick, dreamless slumber. She was so afraid her dreams would give her the satisfaction that she couldn't have in real life. She didn't want to dream of the blond, knowing Brittany would never be hers again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry about the wait, guys. I've been really busy with exams this past week. I promise that I will start updating more regularly now that I've finished the story. Thanks for all the feedback already. **

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><p>"So, how was it?" Quinn asked eagerly as the two girls sat down at Santana's regular table in the corner of Earl's. Quinn and Santana were both dressed casually, in jeans and sweatshirts. Since college, Santana didn't really put as much effort into dressing to impress. She was a jeans and t-shirt girl now. Yet, Quinn could still appreciate how beautiful her best friend truly was. Quinn was positive that Santana could have worn a trash-bag and still looked good.<p>

The sun had finally appeared after a gloomy week, and the icy city showed signs of awakening again. It was definitely busier than it had been the past few days, and the coffee shop was full of people. As Santana's solemn attitude became too obvious, Quinn knew that something had happened between the Latina and Brittany. She was too curious for her own good.

Quinn's seemingly innocent question seemed to anger Santana. But Quinn was her best friend, and Santana knew that she had the best intentions; all she wanted was Santana's happiness. Unfortunately, Santana wasn't really all too wiling to share her private feelings about what had gone down the previous day.

Santana looked up to give her blond friend a warm smile and Quinn could see that something had changed within the Latina. Of course, she recognized that Santana was hurting. She could see the pain behind her silent, peaceful exterior. Santana's eyes were what gave her away, and the blond recognized this, giving her friend a gentle smile in return.

"It was…interesting," Santana hesitated before she found the last word. She looked up to see Quinn's smile turn into a questioning expression.

"Interesting?" Quinn repeated, taking a sip of her coffee and raising her eyes. She could tell that Santana was being cautious, but wanted to press the conversation further.

Santana paused, contemplating how to carry on. She could tell the truth and say that seeing Brittany again had been both the worst and best moment in her last five years. She could say that Brittany was even more beautiful than she remembered and still took her breath away. She could tell her that she had been up practically all night reminiscing about their past and bawling her eyes out.

Or, Santana could lie and say that she had moved on and had put her past with Brittany behind her. She could lie and say that she was no longer madly in love with the girl anymore. But, Santana was pretty sure that if she lied, Quinn would know the truth. Santana knew that her eyes were betraying her.

After a few long moments, she continued. "It was hard, seeing her again. But I know that she's happy and that's all that matters to me," she gave a reassuring look to Quinn, but the blond wasn't buying it.

Santana really was happy for Brittany, but deep down she knew that there was a searing jealousy that was ripping her apart at the seams. Deep down, she knew that she still wanted to be the person that would make Brittany the happiest woman in the world.

"Lying to me isn't going to make any of this better," Quinn said, staring knowingly at the Latina. "I know there's more to it than that."

Santana didn't like the direction this discussion was heading, but she knew that Quinn was right. She was a terrible liar. Before she could respond, Quinn interrupted her thoughts.

"I have a confession to make, though," Quinn looked uneasy all of a sudden, as if she was about to spill a damaging secret. Santana had lost her train of thought at the new direction the conversation had taken.

When Quinn still hadn't continued, Santana tilted her head and sighed. "Come on, Q. What is it?"

"I've sort of…known that…Brittany's been here for a while," she exhaled loudly as soon as the words had escaped her lips.

Santana gave her friend a bewildering expression, as the words sunk in. She couldn't decide if she wanted to slap her blond friend for keeping the secret, or thank her again and again for saving her from months of wondering, remembering, and hurting. She decided the latter was more important.

When the words had finally settled in her mind, she gave Quinn a smile. "It's fine, Quinn. I don't really care," she shrugged her shoulders, took a sip of her own coffee and turned her head to look out the window, the same as she always did when she was lost in thought.

"Why not?" Quinn responded, quickly. She was confused at the Latina's reply.

When Santana met Quinn's eyes again, she answered. "It's fine because I'm glad I didn't know." She stopped to read the other girl's face. Santana was telling the truth and Quinn was confused by this.

"I wouldn't have wanted to know that she was here, Quinn. I _still_ really don't want to know, but I guess I didn't have a choice this time around." She clarified, shrugging her shoulders.

Quinn was shocked, to say the least. Quinn knew how much Santana still loved the blond dancer. Even after years with not even a mention of the name, Quinn knew. But then she thought about the situation for a second, and could understand where her friend was coming from. Knowing the love of your life was nearby, happy with another person, wasn't something that you would like to be constantly reminded of.

"You don't want to see her again?" Quinn inferred by the Latina's statement.

Santana simply nodded. She definitely did not want to see Brittany again; she had told Brittany that, herself. "It was nice to see her, but I think a clean break would be the best from now on," she said as she began fiddling with the coffee cup. "It was hard being around her knowing that she's…married," Santana finished, hesitantly. She knew that no matter how many times she said out loud that Brittany was married, she would still cringe and struggle with the words.

"Just because someone's married doesn't mean that they don't harbor old feelings, even after many years," Quinn stated, hoping to encourage the brunette. Just because Brittany was with another man didn't detract from the fact that Santana had changed for the better and still loved the blond unconditionally.

But Santana knew better. She had seen the wedding announcement picture, and she had seen Brittany's face when she had mentioned her husband. Santana recognized that Brittany was happy and living a life that the Latina had always wanted to give her, but couldn't. Santana wished the world for Brittany, but she wasn't going to do _anything_ that would hurt the woman that she still desperately wanted.

"I…I love her Q. I love her just as much as I loved her five years ago, even after I…" she couldn't finish. She hated to think about how much she had hurt Brittany. "But just because I still love her doesn't mean that we are meant to be. She's with Nathan, and I know that he's a good man. He will take care of her and make her happier than I ever could," she sighed and gave her best friend a sad stare. She wanted this to be the end of the conversation.

Quinn didn't agree with what Santana had said, but she understood that she didn't want to continue their discussion. She opened her mouth to say one last comment before they moved on to a completely different subject.

"I'm sorry for telling her where to find you. It's just that, she called me, and she practically begged me to give her your number. I told her that I was pretty sure you didn't want to see her, but she kept pushing me," Quinn apologized, rambling. "I really didn't mean to let it slip," she frowned at her friend, hoping that Santana wasn't mad at her.

Santana smiled and grabbed Quinn's hand, squeezed gently. "I'm not upset, Quinn. I know how persistent Brittney can be." She stood up from her chair and grabbed her coat from the back of her seat.

"It is what it is, Q. I can't do anything about it, as long as you respect my wishes when I tell you that I _don't_ want to see her again," she was firm in her statement, and the blond nodded.

Quinn thought that Santana was making a mistake because she knew that Brittany was the only thing that would ever make Santana truly happy again. But, as much as she hoped for reconciliation between the two, Santana had been right. Brittany _was_ married, now; she was taken, and she definitely didn't belong to Santana anymore. It didn't matter that Santana was and would always be Brittany's.

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><p>"I guess I should tell you that I'm having a little party this weekend. I already invited Brittany and Nathan when I talked to her earlier, so you might want to sit this one out," Quinn said as she walked down the street with Santana. When Santana's eyes just about jumped out of her sockets, Quinn wanted to reassure her friend that it would be okay.<p>

"Don't worry about it, S. I'll come up with some excuse for why you won't be there," she smiled and Santana sighed, relaxing.

They continued walking down the sidewalk in silence. It truly was a beautiful morning, and Santana felt at ease for once in the past hour. She carefully avoided all the snow piles, picking up her boot-covered feet high as she walked. No matter how pretty and clear the sky was, she was still pissed about the weather. She still hated the snow, which would be around for the next few weeks, for sure.

"How's the writing going?" Quinn asked, as they rounded the corner of a block. They were heading to Crate and Barrel because Quinn was moving out of her apartment and into a new one with her present boyfriend, Puck. Quinn had claimed that she "would need to completely redecorate the entire place, for sure." Santana was there to help.

"Fine," Santana answered. Santana's writing was an extremely big part of her life. In fact, it was one of the reasons that she was doing so well financially. She had lied to Brittany when she had told her that she wasn't published. But even if she had told the truth, Brittany wouldn't have been able to find her name on any writing, anywhere. Santana's pen name, on the other hand, could be found relatively easily. Brittany would no longer question how Santana could afford to live like she did if she knew the truth. But, only Quinn and Santana's publisher, Rachel, knew her true identity.

"_Fine_, that's it?" Quinn questioned, loudly. Quinn really hoped that Santana's writing was much better than _fine_.

"Yeah," she nodded her head, as they turned the last corner to the store. "I'm thinking about taking a break for a little while and getting away, though."

Quinn was a little startled by the brunette's confession. This was the first time that she was hearing about this from Santana. "Going where? For like, a while?" she asked, confused.

Santana simply shrugged her shoulders. She had been thinking a lot about leaving New York since last night. She had pictured herself on various beaches across the world. She liked Hawaii or Tahiti, and she could definitely visualize herself lying on the white sand for days. "I've been writing nonstop since I graduated, Q. I think it's about time that I took a vacation."

"I know," she said, emphasizing the 'know', but she seemed to think that the Latina was overlooking the most important factor of all. "But, don't you have like deadlines for the next…I don't know, two _years_?"

Santana rolled her eyes at Quinn like she was overacting. "It's not _that _big of a deal, Quinn. After how much money I've made for Rachel, I'm sure she won't care if I leave for a few months," she explained as they came to the doors of their destination. Before they entered, Quinn grabbed the brunette's hand, pulling her back to where she was standing in complete shock.

"A few _months_?" she gasped, loudly. Santana rolled her eyes and stilled her heavily-breathing friend with her arms.

"It's okay, Q," Santana reassured her as she gently hugged the blond. "I'll be back before you know it."

Once she pulled back to look at her still-shocked friend, she knew that she was in for some harsh words and accusations. Like, _why now?_ But, she was sure that, once again, Quinn wouldn't _really _have to ask that question. The answer was fairly obvious.

"This is totally ridiculous, S. You can't let Brittany run you out of here: out of _your_ home, _your_ city. This place is like your sanctuary," she practically yelled at the Latina.

"Yeah, it is…" Santana agreed, nodding her head. She wouldn't argue this with Quinn because she knew that the blond was right. New York had changed her for the better. She knew that coming here had been the best decision of her life. She couldn't even imagine her life without the busy hustle and billion, never-ending opportunities for greatness. "But, I can't walk these streets knowing that _she _might show up, out of the blue, anywhere. I already told you that I don't want to see her again. It's for the best that I get away."

As these words hung in the air and settled, Quinn watched her best friend enter the large store in front of them.

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><p>After mindlessly wandering around the shop, Quinn decided to go look for Santana. The two had split up, searching for various things that Quinn needed. The blond couldn't shake the conversation the two of them had had outside of the store. She didn't feel comfortable with leaving it the way they had.<p>

She fought her way through the busy store and past the isle of bed sheets. That's when she caught an image out of the corner of her eye that stunned and paralyzed her. She couldn't move her legs as her head turned to face two individuals that she recognized immediately, standing barely ten feet away from her.

The other blond that was looking at various towels felt an intense gaze on her instantly. She hadn't heard the man next to her ask a question because she turned her eyes towards the intense gaze that was piercing her through.

"Quinn?" she gasped as she recognized the blond from high school. She practically ran the small distance between the two of them and embraced the shocked girl in her arms, energetically.

Of course, Quinn snapped out of her daze and reciprocated the hug, smiling. But, deep down she knew that this was going to be a big, _big_ problem. And soon.

She felt Brittany's embrace falter as she stepped back to look at her old friend.

"Is that…really you?" Quinn turned her head to the man that had approached the two girls. She knew it was Nathan as soon as she heard his voice, but she had to see it with her own eyes.

As the couple stood next to each other, Quinn took the moment to study the two of them together.

Brittany was wearing black jeans and a dark grey sweater with a purple scarf. She had on black boots that reached up to her knees. She looked…_good_. Her hair was longer and curled. Quinn thought she looked even more beautiful than back in high school, if that was possible.

Nathan was wearing a dress shirt and tie with kaki pants and dress shoes. His hair was shaggy, but didn't cover his bright green eyes. His face was less baby-ish and more chiseled. He _was _handsome, there was no argument there.

Then, after studying the two of them separately, she observed the two of them together.

He was standing next to her, with his hand resting gently on her shoulder. Brittany sort of fell back into him. They were close and intimate in their stance. Quinn felt sad when she realized that they were both smiling, magnificently. Unfortunately, they _did _look happy.

When she realized that she still hadn't responded back, she shook her head, exiting her deep thoughts and returned to the present situation.

"Yyy…yeah," she finally managed to say. "Sorry," she smiled and reached her hand out in front of Nathan. "It's good to see you again," she finished.

He took her hand, willingly and gave her a warm smile. "How have you been?" he asked after they had finished shaking.

Quinn shifted her stance and answered. "I'm great," she answered. "Trying to get some new stuff for the new apartment," she admitted, holding up the few things in her non-free hand.

"You're moving?" Nathan asked.

"I thought I told you about the party this weekend, Nate," Brittany answered for the other blond. Brittany smiled at Quinn, happily. "She's having a moving in party that she kindly invited us to," she nodded her head.

"Oh," Nathan replied. "I didn't know that you meant the same _Quinn_ that I knew."

"Wait, you know each other?" Brittany asked, confused, and a little late in the realization. Brittany was still a little slow sometimes.

"Yeah, Nathan, Santana, and I were close friends back in college. I assumed that he told you about Santana," Quinn clarified, becoming more confused at Brittany's startled look.

Quinn quickly realized that Nathan _hadn't _mentioned the two of them to Brittany by the guilty look on his face, and she silently laughed at the situation. This was going to be interesting…

"Santana and Nathan dated for…a while back in college. We were all really close. I'm sorry we lost track after graduation. Santana's been like…_crazy _busy, though," she immediately regretted saying that last bit as soon as it had come out. She tended to ramble sometimes when she was uncomfortable. "Me too, as well. I'm at Columbia for law school," she said, hoping to cover up the mistake she had made.

"Wait…" Brittany turned to face her husband, questioningly. "You and _Santana_ dated?" she seemed upset.

Nathan didn't look guilty anymore; instead, he looked just as confused and even a little angry. His eyebrows scrunched, and he gave Brittany a questioning glance.

"So?" he shrugged his shoulders. Quinn understood that he hadn't put two and two together yet, either. Apparently, neither of them had mentioned their relationship with Santana, and this amused Quinn, _a lot_.

Quinn let out a giant chuckle and continued to stare at the two of them, intensely.

"Hey, Quinn?" came a voice from around the corner. Apparently, Santana could only see Quinn from behind the isle, so she was unknowingly walking into a fire pit.

Quinn, Santana, and Nathan all turned to the voice that had just reached them, and as Santana rounded the corner, she stopped. Her eyes grew and she dropped the few items that had been in her arms.

"Uhhhhhh," she managed as she fell to her knees, trying to grab the items that had fallen.

Quinn took the few seconds to appreciate the irony in the situation, and laughed again. This time, she received an extremely angry look from her best friend, so she knelt down as well to help Santana gather her things.

"Santana?" both Nathan and Brittany said at the same time.

When the Latina got to her feet again, she smiled awkwardly and blushed deeply. "Hi, Nathan," she acknowledged the old boyfriend first.

Nathan seemed more confused that Brittany was staring at Santana with an intensity that he had never seen before, than the obvious fact that both his wife and Santana knew each other.

"How do _you two_ know each other?" Nathan asked, wondering.

When neither Santana nor Brittany had moved their eyes from the other, Quinn decided that she would answer because it didn't seem like either one of them would, any time soon.

"Santana and Brittany dated in high school," she answered, looking Nathan in the eyes.

He immediately seemed put off by this statement because he took a step back and raised his eyebrows extremely high.

"Wow," Nathan exhaled, deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is _super_ awkward, then," he admitted, laughing lightly.

"Yeah," Quinn agreed, whispering.

While Quinn and Nathan had been talking, Santana had been watching Brittany, intensely. She didn't want to be here; she wanted to be _anywhere _but here. Hadn't she _just _been saying that she didn't want to randomly run into Brittany in the city? And now she was with Nathan? She felt faint all of a sudden as the walls seemed to be crumbling down on her.

So, instead of sticking around and embarrassing herself, immensely, she turned around on her heels and made her way to the check-out.

Brittany didn't let Santana get that far because once she realized that the Latina was running away, she followed her, quickly.

"Santana, wait!" she yelled, as the brunette disappeared into the crowd. She pushed through the masses of people, searching for the dark hair that would tell the blond that the girl wasn't too far away.

When she reached the register counter, she stopped to look at Santana, who was placing her items on the counter and greeting the woman who stood behind it. She moved, cautiously towards her destination and stopped once she had reached the Latina's side.

"Why did you run?" Brittany questioned, softly, so that only Santana could hear what she was saying. She moved so close to the brunette that Santana could feel the blonde's breath on her neck. She could feel her skin tingle into a million sharp jolts of electricity.

She knew that she couldn't turn to face Brittany because she would feel faint again, so she stayed where she was, unmoving.

"I don't want to see you…" _with him_. She finished the statement in her head so that Brittany couldn't hear her. Hopefully, her answer would make the bond give her some space. She was right.

Brittany took a step back, and Santana could tell that her words seemed to hurt the blond, even though she wasn't looking at her. She _knew_. She _always_ knew when it came to Brittany, even after five long years.

"Why did you lie to me?" Brittany asked.

Santana had told so many lies to Brittany in the past that she had no way of knowing which lie the girl was talking about.

"I didn't realize that you _knew _Nathan," she clarified.

Santana simply closed her eyes and watched the cashier ring up her final few items.

"That's $101.35," the woman said, as Santana pulled her wallet out of her jacket pocket. She handed the woman her credit card and slowly turned to face Brittany.

"I didn't think it really mattered," she shrugged her shoulders and gave Brittany a warm smile that the blond hadn't been expecting.

"Here you go, miss," the cashier said, as she handed back Santana's credit card and began placing the items in a couple of bags.

"Thanks," Santana nodded to the cashier as she moved away from the counter and towards the front of the door. She could feel Brittany following her.

"Santana?" Brittany sounded so hurt by the Latina's seemingly indifferent attitude.

Santana turned around to face Brittany again. "Yes?"

"Can I see you again?" she asked, desperate to hold onto anything that Santana could give her, even if it was a broken promise.

Santana didn't answer, but she knew that Brittany was waiting. Instead, she said, "tell Quinn I'll meet her back at my apartment." And she turned on her heals to exit the building and enter the cold, sunny, outside world.


	5. Chapter 5

**So, this is another pretty short chapter. **

**I love it when you guys leave reviews so I can see what you like and think about this story. Though I pretty much have it finished, I can always make adjustments for you guys. The readers' opinions matter, too! Thanks for the support, and there's a long way to go with this story, so I hope you stick around to read more. **

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><p>"Santana!" Quinn yelled from the door of the apartment, as she entered.<p>

Santana had been watching television from her couch in the living room. She had her legs propped up, lazily on the coffee table and had finally begun to relax.

As Quinn entered the room, Santana could feel a change in the atmosphere almost immediately. She knew that Quinn was mad at her.

"Why the hell did you just _leave _me with those two? Talk about suuuuper awkward," she huffed out as she threw her whole body on the other end of the sofa.

Santana turned to face Quinn, who was staring at her, incredulously. "I had to stand there with the two of them for like _ever_. And let me tell you, those two did not look happy…at all," she said, sternly. She had her pointer finger directed right at the brunette, whose apathy was pretty obvious.

"I'm guessing that Brittany had left out the whole part about her _totally _being into girls before she tied the knot with Nate," Quinn had inferred, laughing aloud. She relaxed a little and turned to the television. "What are you watching?"

Santana was still staring at Quinn, while she responded. "The cooking channel," she sighed deeply as her attention turned back to the TV set.

"You don't cook," Quinn noted, quickly. "You eat out every day. Actually, I'm surprised you don't look like a cow by now. I don't think I've ever actually seen you eat something relatively healthy, ever."

Santana just rolled her eyes at her friend. "Does that mean that we are done talking about what happened?" she hoped, eagerly.

Quinn just dropped her jaw at her friend and shook her head, adamantly.

"Hell no," Quinn answered.

"Then get on with it, so we can be done and I can buy my plane ticket out of this damn city," the Latina said, annoyed.

As Quinn took a few moments to think about what she wanted to say to Santana, the brunette was trying to shake the image of Brittany and Nathan together_._ She hadn't realized that it would sting so hard, like it had. She was both burning with rage on the inside, and weeping hysterically as well.

"Do you think they looked happy?" Santana asked, interrupting Quinn as she was about to say something.

Quinn really didn't want to answer this question, because she knew the answer would hurt Santana more. "I guess…" she settled for, that way she wasn't completely lying.

Santana looked deep in thought, like she was analyzing exactly what her friend had said. Quinn hoped that Santana would interpret her answer as being unsure, instead of the truth.

"I have to call Rachel today. When do you think she will be up?" Santana asked. Rachel lived in New York like Santana, but she was currently in Los Angeles meeting with another agency.

Quinn looked down to her wrist to read her watch. "She should be up. It's eleven now," she answered, becoming confused by the random comments from her best friend.

Santana still looked like she wasn't _really_ there, and her eyes were darker and lost-looking. Quinn felt bad for the Latina immediately and wanted to give her a giant hug. But, she knew that Santana needed her space; she needed her space to think and figure out her next move.

They waited in an awkward silence for a few minutes, only listening to the television.

Santana got up from her seat after a while and walked over to the kitchen. She opened her refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. Once she had twisted off the cap and taken a sip, she turned her attention back to Quinn, who was now watching her with curious eyes.

"You do realize that you can't leave until the end of the month, right?" Quinn asked, hoping to remind Santana of her important resposibilities.

"Yeah, I do realize that," Santana responded, angrily and annoyed. She did remember that she had stuff scheduled for the rest of the month. It wasn't like she could just run away and never come back. If she did, she was sure that Rachel would have her head. "I was actually trying to come up with a way around all that," Santana finished.

Quinn got up from her seat and moved to stand in front of Santana, on the other side of the island.

"Why don't you stick around until February, and then you can take off for however long, if you are still inclined to do so," Quinn suggested, hoping that her friend would consider what she was saying.

Santana stared at the blond, thinking about her proposition; it seemed fair enough. "I'm still buying the plane ticket now. I'm not going to change my mind," she said, as Quinn sighed, heavily.

Relief washed through the blond as she considered how she was going to rectify the situation. She had a couple of weeks before she had to come up with something, so she settled for giving Santana a warm smile.

"I'm going to go call Rachel now," Santana said as she walked past Quinn to the stairs that led up to her loft.

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><p>Brittany hadn't said anything to Nathan after she had come back to meet him and Quinn at the other end of the store. Instead, she seemed in a sort of trance that was occupied with images of Santana. She really hated how little Santana seemed to care, and Santana's apathy hurt worse than Nathan's obvious anger.<p>

"When were you going to tell me that you've had relationships with women?" Nathan finally asked after they had left the store and entered the limo that was parked a block from Crate and Barrel.

Brittany was staring out the dark-tinted window as they pulled away and sped down the street towards their apartment. This was one of those moments when she wished she could just squeeze her eyes tightly and transport herself anywhere that wasn't where she currently was.

The truth was that Brittany never intended to tell her husband about her past relationships because she knew he would be uncomfortable with it. Now, it seemed, she really didn't have a choice anymore.

"I haven't had a relationship with another girl since high school, Nathan. Santana was the last girl I was with. Actually, she was the only girl that I ever really dated. I mostly just fooled around when I was younger," she explained.

The last part of her statement was a lie because Brittany had only ever been interested in Santana as a young girl and teenager. She hadn't really fooled around when she was in high school, apart from the occasional drunken kiss at parties before her and Santana had become serious. Santana had been the only girl for Brittany. When she let her mind wander a bit, she silently scolded herself for remembering that it hadn't been the same for Santana.

"So what…are you like bisexual or something?" he asked, confused.

Brittany hated these types of questions, because she always disliked labels. If you are truly happy, why would you even bother putting a label on a relationship or yourself? Brittany was just Brittany, and that was it.

"I'm not _anything_," she answered. "I'm just Brittany, your wife," she finished with a smile once she had turned her head back to face the man seated next to her.

"But you're attracted to women, too?" he asked, pushing a conversation that was making Brittany angry.

Brittany let out an annoyed sigh and turned back to face outside the window.

"Well?" Nathan continued to search.

Brittany didn't know how to answer this question because she didn't want to upset her husband and get into an argument with him. Yes, Brittany appreciated a woman's body, but she had only ever been truly attracted to one woman. In fact, she had only felt one attraction in her entire life that made her completely week at the knees and hurt so magnificently. Unfortunately for her husband, Nathan wasn't that person.

"I guess," she shrugged her shoulders. That answer was the best she could do because either way, Nathan would continue to question her.

"Don't you think that's something that you should have mentioned?" he asked, upset.

"I'm sorry, Nathan. It just never came up," she answered, trying to comfort her husband.

Nathan still seemed a little confused, but his frustration showed through his expression more. Brittany didn't want to mention anything else because sometimes she tended to ramble, and there were definitely a lot of things that she could say regarding her relationship with Santana that would upset him even more. To the point that, she was pretty sure, he wouldn't want to be married to her anymore. That truth hurt the worst of all. Yes, she loved her husband, but he was no Santana.

Nathan had continued to stare at his wife, quizzically. "Is that where you were yesterday?" he asked.

If Brittany was sure of one thing, it was that Nathan was very observant and smart. He knew how to ask the right questions that Brittany wanted to avoid.

"Yes," she answered, nodding her head. She had told Nathan that she had gone to see an old friend. She hadn't bothered lying because she didn't think it would ever come up or matter to him. She had been wrong.

"Was that the first time seeing her since high school?" Nathan shifted in his seat, uncomfortably.

Brittany didn't even bother answering; instead, she simply nodded her head and smiled. "I didn't know you knew her, either," she turned the spotlight back on Nathan.

"Yeah," he answered, calmly. "We were close friends a couple years ago," he finished.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "More than close_ friends_," she whispered under her breath. For some reason she didn't like the idea that her husband had been so close with Santana, not one tiny bit.

"It was good to see her again," he continued. "She looks really good." He stopped for a moment to ponder about the brunette. "I wonder what she's doing now. She's like super smart; graduated top of are class at NYU. I wouldn't be surprised if she was a multi-millionaire by now." He laughed softly.

Brittany thought about Nathan's words. "You should see her apartment. It's even nicer than ours," she admitted.

"Hmmmm," Nathan mumbled. "Where does she live?" he asked.

"Not far from here: Upper East Side," she answered.

Nathan raised his eyes, surprised by the blonde's answer. Santana must have been doing _really_ well.

Brittany seemed to notice that Nathan wasn't upset anymore, so she decided to drop the conversation and distract him. "What are you doing for the rest of the day?" she asked.

"Oh…" he had been deep in thought. "I've got a big test tomorrow, so I've got to spend a while studying. Sorry, babe," he gave her a sympathetic expression.

"That's fine," Brittany responded. "I have to get to the studio to do some work too," she added. "I'll be home for dinner with your parents, though," she smiled.

Brittany had been spending a lot of her free time at school, just like Nathan. But unlike her husband, she was getting ready to graduate. As much as she loved school, she was ready to move on to better things. She already had a few opportunities open for when she graduated. She still had to tell her husband about them, though.

"How's it going?" Nathan inquired.

"Great, we've got our last big performance next week, and then I'm pretty much a graduate," she smiled brightly.

"I'm so proud of you, Britt," Nathan leaned over to plant a sweet kiss to Brittany's cheek.

As soon as his lips touched her skin, she felt that tingly feeling run down her body, just like she always did when he kissed her. The thing about Nathan's kisses, though, were that they always left her feeling distant. She always ended up thinking about something else, or rather, someone else. Oh, how she wished it were Santana's lips on her, instead. And Brittany knew how wrong that was, indeed.


	6. Chapter 6

A few days later, Santana was standing outside of Quinn's apartment. She had reluctantly agreed to help her pack up her belongings for the blonde's upcoming move.

She was about to knock on the door, when it flew open suddenly to reveal a mohawked man grinning brightly.

"Lopez!" the man shouted before wrapping his arms around the disgruntled Latina.

Santana immediately struggled out of the man's embrace so she could hit his shoulder. "Move, Noah," she said sternly before pushing passed him and entering the small studio apartment.

In the distance, she could see Quinn on her knees placing videos and DVDs into a rather large box. As soon as Santana had reached the living room, the blond looked up and smiled at her best friend. She hopped up off the ground to walk towards the girl and gently placed her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"I'm glad you came," she greeted.

Santana could feel the unusual niceness emanating from the blond and she rolled her eyes, annoyed at the change in dynamic.

"Stop worrying about me, Q. It's starting to get on my nerves," she admitted honestly to the blond, who sighed loudly at the comment.

"I'm not _worrying _about you…" Quinn began as she walked back into the living room and returned to the box she had been packing. Santana followed the blond and sat down on the couch in front of her best friend. "I'm just…making sure you're okay."

"You do realize that that's, like, the same thing?" Santana responded as Quinn looked up to meet those unfamiliar hurting eyes.

Quinn knew Santana was right; she had just been hoping that she wasn't being too obvious about it. Apparently the Latina could see right through her façade.

The two girls sat in silence for a few moments before Noah came bouncing through the hallway into the quiet room.

"So, Santana, I hear that Britt's coming to our party this weekend," the dark-haired man bluntly commented as he threw himself over the back of the couch and across from the Latina. "Have you crafted up your master plan yet?"

Santana stared at the man, annoyed. "What plan are you talking about, Puckerman?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"Your plan to get into those fine girl's pants and show her what's she's been missing for five fucking years so she will dump that loser," he explained, smiling even wider as the words flowed from his mouth.

"Noah!" Quinn yelled at her boyfriend while throwing a DVD at his head.

Santana bent her leg back before throwing a kick at Noah's gut, causing him to gasp in pain.

"That's for being a complete asshole," she retorted.

As Noah clung to his stomach in pain, he looked to his girlfriend for some kind of support. Instead, she found Quinn glaring at him with angry eyes.

"Don't look at me," she held up her hands in her defense. "I warned you not to say anything," she finished, returning back to the task at hand.

"I need a beer," the Latina said, as she stood up from the couch and walked to the small kitchen connected to the living room.

She opened up the fridge to find that there was not a single thing inside; she groaned loudly. "Where the hell is all your food?" she yelled back to the couple in the adjacent room.

When no one responded, she returned to the living room to find Quinn whispering something to Noah. When the blond caught the Latina out of the corner of her eye, she was immediately silent.

"I…uhhhh…cleared out the fridge already," she explained as her cheeks got red. Santana could tell that they had been talking about her.

"I kind of figured," Santana replied. "But what are we supposed to eat for dinner?" she asked, ignoring the obvious personal interruption.

"We were going to go down the street to get pizza, if that's alright with you?" Noah answered.

Santana looked at the clock on the wall, which told her it was a little past seven. "Can we go now? I'm starving and I could really use a drink," she asked, annoyed at the tension in the room.

"Sure," they answered at the same time and jumped to their feet.

"I'm ready, are you ready, honey?" Noah asked as he stared at the blond.

"Yep," Quinn replied hastily before reaching for her jacket that was lying on the nearby chair.

Santana rolled her eyes again before turning around to exit the apartment. She could hear the quiet whispers of her friends from behind her, and she immediately regretted coming over at all.

* * *

><p>"Hi, my name is Ashley, and I'll be your server tonight," an attractive brunette greeted the group as they took their seats in a booth by the front window. "What can I get you to drink?"<p>

The three of them answered quickly, already knowing what they wanted to eat and drink. Going to Mario's Pizza was a common occurrence for Noah, Quinn, and Santana. Santana ordered a Guinness, as always, while Quinn and Noah stuck with Coronas. They ordered one large supreme pizza, like they always did, and thanked the waitress who gave them a genuine smile.

They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes before Santana became irritated and decided to bring up a random topic.

"So Puck, how's work going?"

Noah relaxed a little at the question. The previous silence had been starting to bug him a little, too. Usually the three of them could joke around and have a blast. It seemed like his recent comments had left an uncomfortable tension between the threesome.

"Good, good," he answered nodding his head. "The label just signed a new band last week. They are amazing; you should come and listen to them sometime. You would love them," he smiled.

Santana had always been impressed with Puck's taste in music as well as his initiative. When he had graduated from school and come to her with a full business plan and possible interested artists, Santana had given him a rather large amount of money for investment. Though Santana knew trusting Puck with her money was a very risky action, she had agreed and handed over a hundred grand with no further questions. At that point, a year ago, she already had more money than she knew what to do with. She was giving her earnings away left and right and still dropped her jaw at her bank statements each month. She hadn't even known that it was possible to make that much money in one month.

"I'd love to," she replied, giving her friend a smile. "Maybe I'll stop by sometime next week," she answered.

Though Puck didn't know how Santana was making all her money, he was fairly sure that Quinn knew. He never asked about it though, because the one time he had mentioned it to Quinn, the blond had frozen up and changed the subject suddenly.

After Santana had paid him to start up his own label, he promised himself and Quinn that he wouldn't ask where the money was coming from, even though he had a wide range of interesting and intriguing theories. It seemed that Santana was extremely grateful for this.

"Here you go," Ashley returned to the table to hand them their drinks. Before she left, she gave a flirty smile to the Latina, who seemed oblivious to the waitress. Ashley looked down at the brunette and let her stare linger a bit too long.

"Thanks," Santana replied, giving a nod to the girl, who blushed before turning to walk away.

The Latina lifted up her beer and took a long sip from the relaxing beverage. She sighed loudly as she lowered the bottle back to the table. She often hated how much she liked alcohol because she knew how addictive it had been for her mother. She tried to keep the weekly alcohol consumption to a minimum, but that didn't mean she liked it any less.

"I needed this," she admitted as she turned her eyes up to face her curious friends.

She noticed that they were giving her a questioning stare.

"What?" Santana asked, confused.

"Lopez, that waitress was _totally _checking you out," Puck noted, nodding his head up and down energetically.

Santana _hadn't _noticed, but she knew it wouldn't have made a difference. "I'm hot, of course she was," she answered nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders. Though Santana was overall a much nicer person, she still had her occasional egotistical comments. Now, though, they came out as more indifferent than anything else.

Quinn let out a chuckle at her friend's humorous statement and took a sip from her drink as well.

"You should ask for her number when she comes around next time. You are in serious need of a good lay," he bluntly stated.

Santana's cheeks turned a rosy red, and she ducked her head down.

The truth was that the Latina hadn't been with anyone since Nathan, and even then she hadn't been able to get off. Sure, Nathan was sweet, but Santana just couldn't stand being intimate with him. She hated the feel of his hands on her; they were both too rough and too gentle at the same time. His kisses were all wrong and left her feeling disgusting and tainted. That was one of the reasons that she had broken it off; she was sick of faking it.

Before Nathan, Santana had had a couple occasional flings and one night stands with a few guys and girls. Those few had all felt wrong as well. It seemed that no matter who Santana allowed in her bed, she was always left feeling worse than she had before. So, to cure her lacking sexual motivation and satisfaction, she had given up sex altogether. It had been a couple of years since she had been intimate with someone, and she wasn't planning on changing that anytime soon.

"Umm, no thanks," Santana responded with her head still lowered.

"Look, Lopez," Puck started. He was about to disobey his girlfriend's strict warnings again, but he felt the need to say something was more important than Quinn's satisfaction. "If you're not planning on doing anything about Brittany, than you should try and get out there in the dating world again. Locking yourself up in your apartment and doing whatever the hell it is you do, is only going to make you feel worse." Noah could feel the glaring eyes of the blond on his face. "You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and move on with your life."

Santana took the words like blows to her face. She knew Puck was right; she knew that she was closing herself off from opportunities, but she also knew that she would just be wasting her time. Her friends didn't understand that no one would be good enough, not after she had been given a glimpse of heaven.

Quinn had already had this discussion with the Latina many times before, so she knew what Santana's response would be.

"It's not the right time," Santana replied, as she looked up into Quinn's knowing eyes.

Though Quinn found it ridiculous that Santana had the same answer every time, she knew there was a lot more that Santana didn't let on.

Before Puck had the chance to make another statement, Quinn brought up their plans for their party next weekend. Quinn knew that Santana wouldn't be coming, but she hoped that the Latina would change her mind. If she had known that Santana would have backed out because of the invitation she had offered to Brittany and Nathan, she wouldn't have invited them. As great as it was to see old friends, Santana was her best friend, and she felt bad for putting her in a weird situation.

"Are you_ sure_ you don't want to come?" Quinn asked, pleadingly.

"I already told you that I can't go. Didn't you agree that you would respect my wishes?" Santana answered. She had hoped that her constant ramblings regarding her wishes to never see Brittany again would have sunk in by now. Apparently, her best friend really didn't care.

And neither did fate.

"You have _got _to be kidding me," Santana whined as she caught sight of two people standing right in front of the entrance into the restaurant. She immediately ducked down as the woman turned her head in the direction of their table.

"What is it?" Quinn asked, confused, before she turned around to meet two familiar eyes across the room. "Oh shit," she whispered under her breath. She felt a tinge of sympathy for her best friend because the world just wouldn't let up. Though Quinn would have argued that fate was trying to say something, she knew that Santana would have retorted that someone was just trying to fuck her up some more.

She watched as Brittany tugged on Nathan's jacket and said something to him. As soon as the words had escaped her lips, Quinn saw another pair of eyes find hers. Before Nathan had enough time to read her expression, she turned in her seat quickly.

"I'm so, so sorry, Santana," she apologized for the cruelty that was being thrust upon her best friend.

Santana just put her head in the palm of her hand before sitting up again and trying to hide behind a confused Puck.

"What's going on?" Puck asked.

"Brittany and her husband just came in," she whispered in his ear. Just as Noah was about to turn around to see the couple, Quinn warned him. "Don't you dare look at them."

Puck's eyebrows furrowed at his girlfriend's stern order and he obeyed.

Santana, on the other hand, was having an _extremely _difficult time controlling her stare. Though she wanted to ignore the blond on the other side of the room and pretend like her heart wasn't beating out of her chest, she couldn't manage to keep her gaze away from the couple.

Brittany was wearing a beautiful black dress and boots. She had her hair delicately curled and falling down her neck. _God, she's gorgeous_, Santana thought to herself as she gulped loudly.

In response to her latest thought, she reached for her drink and started chugging. Before she knew it, she had downed the entire beer.

"Slow down there, Captain," Puck commented, but Santana was still trying with all her willpower to focus on anything other than Brittany, that she completely missed her friend's caution.

Before Santana knew it, the hostess was leading the couple to a table in the opposite direction of theirs. Santana sighed loudly as Brittany and Nathan disappeared behind a wall which opened up into a larger area.

"I'll be right back," Santana stated before she was on her feet, walking across the room towards her destination.

She knew where the bathrooms were; she had been to Mario's many times before. Even though the restrooms were barely a hundred feet away, she felt like she had walked a mile before she arrived at the clearly labeled door.

As she entered the small, dimly-lit room, she wandered to the furthest stall and shut the swinging door behind her. She just stood there and gave herself a few minutes to let her breathing fall back to a normal pace. Her heart felt like it was about to give way and she could sense the same claustrophobic sense consume her again. It seemed like she would never have enough space.

_What do you want from me! _She practically screamed in her mind. She couldn't understand how a higher power could torture her so relentlessly and cruelly.

Just as Santana's fist hit the door in front of her, she heard the door to the bathroom swing open and heels walk across the tiled floor.

"Santana?"

Santana froze in the stall and stood up straight. She hadn't been expecting _that _voice. And though all she wanted was to hide and pretend that she wasn't really there, she knew that Brittany had probably seen her escape to the bathroom. There was no way of getting out of this situation unscathed.

Santana turned around and flushed the toilet, even though she hadn't even used it. She wanted to make it seem like she did, indeed, have to use the restroom. She then took a deep breath in as she unlocked the door and exited the safety of the stall.

"Brittany," she said as she met the eyes of the beautiful woman standing a few feet away from her.

She then moved towards the sink and turned on the faucet, reaching for the soap before she placed her hands under the running water.

"I didn't know that you would be here, I promise," Brittany stated, honestly as she bit her lip and watched the brunette curiously. Though Brittany knew that Santana didn't think she was following her or purposely running into the brunette, she still felt the need to explain.

Santana didn't respond; instead, she continued to wash her hands and ignore the woman who was trying to talk to her.

"I wish you would stop running from me. You did it at the store and again tonight," Brittany said as she shifted her stance and continued to stare at the Latina.

"I'm not running from anything," Santana lied as she turned off the faucet. "I just had to pee."

She turned from the sink and grabbed a couple of paper towels that were resting on the counter. Before she had time to react, she felt and saw a light hand reach and touch her wrist. She felt the spark shoot up her arm. Santana reluctantly turned to face the blond.

"I don't understand why you look so annoyed," Brittany observed. "You didn't seem that upset when we were at your apartment last week."

Brittany could read Santana so well. Only, after a few years, she couldn't understand the reason behind those feelings. She had seen a hint of sadness and annoyance the day that they had first seen each other again, but it had only been a fraction of the feelings displayed in the face and eyes of the Latina now.

Santana stared directly into the eyes of the blond, and she took in a deep breath. She could see the confusion resting there, but she didn't understand why. She thought that she had made it perfectly clear that she hadn't wanted to see Brittany again after their first meeting.

"I…I miss you, Santana," Brittany said as she lowered her eyes, feeling slightly ashamed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Santana spat, angrily. She tossed the paper towel into the trashcan before stepping forward towards the blond.

Brittany kept her gaze to the ground as she moved her foot slightly. She looked up hesitantly, through her eyelashes.

"I want to be your friend again," she clarified.

Santana began shaking her head as she looked off to the side. She was starting to fume because she wanted to both shout at Brittany and make her sob and agree to give Brittany whatever she wanted.

Brittany seemed to comprehend the sudden tension and realized that Santana was about to leave her again. So, she asked the question she had asked before and would continue to ask in hopes that she would get the answer she wanted.

"Can I see you again?"

Santana was moving before Brittany had finished the question. As she grabbed the handle on the door, she turned back to the blond.

"Since I don't seem to have a say anymore, you may want to find someone more appropriate to ask that question to," Santana answered as she pulled the door back and exited the bathroom.

She walked back to the table where her friends were anxiously awaiting her return. She slid down into her seat and reached for a slice of the pizza that had arrived in her absence.

"Santana…" Quinn stared up at her best friend. "Are you alright?" she asked, worried.

Santana looked up as she took a bite of her food. "I'm great," she smiled as she continued to chew to keep from choking on her own sarcasm.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry guys. This is a filler chapter, I will admit. But I promise to update soon to make up for it. The next chapter will be ALL Brittana, I swear.**

* * *

><p>Though she had intended to be productive for the night and finish some work for her upcoming deadline, Santana couldn't keep her eyes off the digital clock that was sitting on the corner of her desk.<p>

It was a little past eight, and she knew that Quinn and Puck were graciously entertaining their guests at their apartment party.

Santana wouldn't have been so consumed by thoughts of the get-together she was missing out on if it hadn't been for the fact that she knew a certain blond and her handsome husband were hanging out with _her _best friends. Santana placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin in the palm of her hand.

She groaned loudly because, as much as she wanted to concentrate on her work so that Rachel wouldn't throw a fit, she couldn't ignore the constant nagging within her, telling her that there was someplace else she should be.

The computer screen in front of the Latina was blank, displaying her obvious lack of productivity over the past few hours, and unfortunately, the past week. She had tried, truly, but her mind was somewhere else.

Just as Santana was about to stand up from her chair and walk down the stairs to grab a drink from her kitchen, she heard her phone ring. The cell phone vibrated obnoxiously on the hard desk until the brunette picked it up, flipped it open, and placed it to her ear.

"Hello?" she answered.

In the background, Santana could hear music and people talking loudly. She immediately assumed it was her best friend.

"Santana!" the Latina heard Quinn yell over the loud background noise. "Hold on…" Quinn said as soon as she realized that her current location was not the best place to have a phone conversation.

When the previous noise had disappeared, Santana could tell that Quinn had moved into an empty bedroom.

"What is it Quinn?" she asked, curious as to why the blond was calling her when she was busy hosting a party.

"I wanted to tell you that you should come over…" but before she had time to finish, the Latina was interrupting her.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not coming, Q."

Quinn paused for a second, before she continued. "Brittany and Nathan didn't show. We're having a blast and I miss you. Please come over?" Quinn begged as her bottom lip pouted out, as if Santana could see her.

Santana contemplated the invitation. On one hand, she was really bored and wasn't doing anything useful at the moment. On the other hand, she had no way of knowing whether her best friend was telling the truth or not.

"She's _really _not there?" Santana asked after a long pause.

Quinn nodded and said, "Definitely not," before giggling loudly. Santana could tell that the blond was already drinking, and that somehow convinced her that she was missing out on a good distraction. She wanted to go out, get hammered, take a cab back to her apartment, and pass out on her comfortable king sized bed. The more she thought about it, the better it sounded in her head.

"I'll be there. Just give me, like, fifteen minutes," she answered before she closed her phone and got up from her chair.

* * *

><p>More like twenty minutes later, Santana was standing outside Quinn and Puck's new apartment. It was nicer and looked <em>much<em> bigger from the outside. Plus, they lived much closer to Santana now, too.

She could hear the music from the other side of the door and decided it would be pointless to even bother knocking. So, she reached for the door knob and turned it, pushing forwards to open the large black wooden barrier.

As she walked forward, and through the entryway, she could see straight ahead to a large glass window, similar to the one in her apartment, only this one was smaller. There was a glass door that opened out into an over-sized patio that was looking over downtown Manhattan. Santana would never get used to the beautiful view of her favorite city.

She continued through the entrance of the apartment building until she was standing in the kitchen, looking around at the various people. Some of them she knew from various meetings, but most of them were strangers. She wondered how it was possible for Puck and Quinn to know so many people that she had never even seen before. This thought seemed to put even more distance between herself and her closest friends.

Outside, on the patio, were beautiful lantern lights that were hanging down from a rod iron canopy. There were a couple of fire pits going, as a few individuals stood around them, trying to keep warm.

Even though New York had seen snow the previous week, the air was a lot warmer now. Though it was still cool, it wasn't as cold as it usually was in mid-January. Santana thought she saw her best friend outside by the grill, so she walked through the open door.

There was some quieter jazz music playing from the speakers planted randomly around the patio. She noticed a bar that was set up in the far corner as well and immediately changed her direction to head to the alcohol.

When she arrived at the bar, a man in a tuxedo smiled at her politely. "What can I get you?" he asked.

"I'll have a Vodka tonic," she requested, relaxing at the words.

"Coming right up," the man responded as he began pouring the drinks while the Latina waited, anxiously.

When she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder, she turned to smile at her best friend.

"I'm glad you decided to show up," Quinn smiled kindly at the Latina.

"I didn't realize that you were throwing such a fancy party," Santana said as she turned back to the bartender, still anxiously waiting for him to finish her drink.

"Well, we had kind of hoped to just put together a small gathering, but as you can see, that didn't go over so well," she held up her hands.

Santana laughed quietly. "I can definitely see that. I don't think I even _know _this many people," she admitted.

"Well the place is a lot bigger, so we can have way more people over if we want to. Plus, I want to show off our new digs," Quinn explained, as she glanced around the patio.

"It's beautiful, Quinn," Santana assured her.

The bartender had finally finished mixing her drink, and handed it over the counter. Santana reached for it eagerly and began sipping from the glass at an extremely fast pace. Quinn gave her a questioning stare.

"I had a _really _horrible day," Santana explained.

Quinn laughed out loud and nodded her head in understanding.

As Santana continued to drink, she let her eyes wander around to the people at the party again. She could see Puck in the corner wearing a rather slimming tux and looking all professional as he talked to a few other guys. Santana could recognize a starving artist and band from a mile away now, and the rough-looking man standing next to Puck fit into this category.

"He's trying to get some new artist to sign with them," Quinn said into Santana's ear, noticing the Latina eyeing her boyfriend.

"Didn't he _just _sign a new band like a week ago?" Santana asked, confused as she turned back to face the blond.

Quinn shrugged her shoulders. "He really loves what he does, Santana," the blond admitted, sounding really impressed.

Santana smiled at the adoration sketched across Quinn's face.

"I guess I should be thanking you for everything," Quinn stared into the brown eyes of the Latina. "If you hadn't taken a chance with him, he would be miserable, I would have probably dumped his ass, and I certainly would not be able to afford to live _here_," the blond motioned around her with her arms.

Santana shook her head back and forth quickly. "I'm sure he would have found someone to invest. He really, truly impressed me, Q," Santana stated, honestly.

Quinn's eyes brightened up immediately. "Yeah, but it's so much better when it's in the family," Quinn said as she moved forward to wrap her arms around the beaming Latina.

Santana could feel the tears forming in her eyes at her best friend's words.

"Quinn!" someone yelled from a few feet away, and the two girls separated quickly. Santana wiped the stray tear that had fallen down her face, away.

Quinn turned around to the voice that had called her name. She immediately began rolling her eyes and turned back to face Santana.

"Looks like your midget decided to show up," Quinn faked a smile as Santana let out a laugh. Santana had always thought Quinn's friendly annoyance with Rachel was hilarious.

The small, petite girl approached the two of them and began waving energetically.

"Hello, Rachel," Santana greeted the brunette, pretending to be as excited as the smaller girl was.

"Well, hello Santana. What a lovely surprise," Rachel nodded her head. "I was under the impression that you weren't going to be attending this special occasion."

"Well…" Santana hesitated. "Circumstances change, I guess," she shrugged her shoulders.

"It's nice to see you again, Quinn," Rachel politely acknowledged the blond, who looked uninterested.

Quinn let her gaze wander over to Puck. "Nice to see you too, Rachel," she barely commented before she was leaving the other girls' sides and moving to her boyfriend.

Santana watched the blond move away and silently wished she could have the same opportunity.

"I need to talk with you Santana," Rachel's tone had clearly changed with the words she now spoke. Santana fell cold and frustrated right away.

"Is this really the best time?" Santana sort of whined at the other brunette.

"Yes," Rachel started, annoyed. "This is important, and I won't be able to see you tomorrow because I have other plans. I was going to have to cancel our appointment anyway," Rachel explained.

"Oh, darn," Santana replied, sarcastically.

"It's nice to see you so enthusiastic about your work," Rachel retorted in the same manner.

Santana didn't feel like responding to Rachel's statement because she didn't feel like explaining herself. She had already had this conversation with Quinn, and she didn't need another person breathing down her neck trying to get her to work and write until she dropped.

Rachel shifted forwards, closing the small gap between the two. Santana knew that she was going to say something she wouldn't want anyone around them to overhear.

"Santana, _people_ are waiting," she whispered.

"Let them fucking wait, then," Santana whispered back with a sharp tongue.

"You don't understand, Santana," Rachel stepped even closer. "You were supposed to be finished this week, and I've got nothing, _nothing._ I have bosses too, Santana, and if they aren't getting what they want, then our little arrangement will be compromised," she moved her hand back and forth between her and Santana.

The Latina went rigid at the brunette's words. Santana knew that Rachel loved to exaggerate and blow things out of proportions, but the seriousness sketched across her face was a curve ball coming out of no where. Santana had been so sure that their arrangement would stay just that: _their _arrangement.

"Have they said anything?" Santana asked, her fear clearly dripping from her face.

Rachel looked around her quickly before focusing back on the Latina. "I think they are getting tired of it all," she spoke, truthfully. "I've been hiding your identity for a year now, Santana. I think they're getting too curious and too selfish for their own good."

"Selfish?" Santana said, confused.

"Yeah, selfish; do you understand how much more money they can make if the world knows who you are?" Santana bit her lip hard. It seemed like everything that could fuck up her life completely was being thrown her way.

"I can't write, Rachel," she admitted, preparing herself for the anger and annoyance that was about to spurt from the smaller girl's mouth.

The truth was that Santana hadn't been able to write a single word since Brittany had walked right back into her life. She had distracted herself with helping Quinn and making other plans so that she wouldn't have to be reminded that every time she sat down at her desk and tried to cough out even a few words, everything she wrote felt wrong.

"What?" Rachel whisper yelled at her. "I thought you were kidding when you called me."

Santana's cheeks flushed pink and she took a long sip from her almost empty glass. "I wasn't."

When her eyes met Rachel's again, she was fuming. "What's wrong? Why can't you write?"

Santana felt annoyed that Rachel had the authority and right to ask her this question. If it had been anyone else, even Quinn, she would have just told them to fuck off. The Latina hadn't thought that it was such a big deal, that's why she had been planning her vacation. She had been sure that Rachel would be okay with her leaving New York so she could clear her head and come back refreshed.

"_Something's _come up," she answered, feeling her cheeks blush slightly at her words. Rachel gave her a quizzical look.

"Something?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows, questioningly.

Santana hesitated, thinking of how she wanted to respond without giving too much of her personal life away.

"There's some…_personal_ stuff that I need to figure out. That's why I was hoping you'd let me leave for a while?" Santana was praying in her head that Rachel wouldn't scream at her in front of a bunch of randoms.

Rachel took a deep breath in and watched the Latina's expression change from annoyed to worried and hurt. As much as she wanted to say that the two of them were friends, she knew that there was a lot about Santana that Rachel didn't know. Rachel knew the _other _Santana better than anyone else, though.

She felt a little sympathy crawl out of a deep crevice within her heart and she relaxed in her stance a little, stepping out of Santana's personal bubble. She took a deep breath as she continued to watch Santana, closely.

"I'm sorry," she said, and Santana's eyes shot open at the unexpected apology.

"What?" Santana said, surprised.

Rachel turned her eyes away from the Latina's for a moment so that she could think. After a minute or so, her eyes found the Latina again, who was still staring at her with a dumbfounded expression planted across her face.

"I shouldn't be pushing you so hard, I get it. I think I get a little carried away with…" she tilts her head to the side, as if she was motioning towards an invisible person standing next to her; Santana caught on. "But, I get that you have a life outside of my own little world, and I think I would agree that I've been pushing you a little hard for the past year or so."

Santana's jaw dropped and she smiled. "Thank you…Rachel," she quietly said, still taken aback.

Rachel brought her arm to the Latina's shoulder and placed her hand there soothingly.

"I'll talk to the boss and see if he can agree to a break. I'm not sure if it will go over well, but I have a few things I can bring up that may work in my favor."

Santana's face grew even brighter, if that was possible.

"But, there's no vacation. At least until the next issue comes out," Rachel bopped Santana's nose with her finger, and Santana immediately felt like she was five again. She had been about to wrap her arms around Rachel and give her an unexpected hug, but that wasn't going to happen now.

"Thank you, Rachel. I'll do my best, but only one more, and then I'm out…at least for a while," she trailed off as her eye caught Quinn far away, looking at her curiously.

When Quinn's expression turned grave after her eyes had drifted away and then back to Santana's, the Latina mouthed 'what' and brought her hands out to her sides.

The blond nodded in the direction that she had briefly glanced. The Latina followed the line of sight to the glass door that led out to the patio and she gasped.

Brittany was standing under the archway, looking around nervously.

"Not again," Santana shook her head back and forth and whispered a few curse words under her breath.

Two beautiful blue eyes found two equally gorgeous brown ones, and Santana watched as Brittany smiled.

Apparently Rachel hadn't missed the quiet exchanges happening around her, either. She leaned in towards the Latina's ear.

"I see that your _something _has just arrived," and Rachel walked away, leaving Santana dead in her tracks.


	8. Chapter 8

**I feel like I'm at liberty to say this because you guys are fucking Brittana fanfiction readers, so I'm pretty sure that you're all just as stoked as I am, but DID YOU SEE THE PROMO FOR NEXT WEEK'S GLEE! I'm pretty positive that was a kiss; like a REAL kiss. Kill me now...**

**Okay, now that I've got that out of my system, here's the next installment for The Wedding Announcement. Hope you enjoy, leave a review, and sorry for any mistakes; you guys know how it is. **

* * *

><p>It was nights like this that reminded Brittany of why she loved New York so much. The crystal clear skyline was breathtaking, the people were walking about contentedly, and the chilled, crisp air did things to her body and spirit that even dancing could not trigger. She felt free and alive, and it was one of the best feelings in the world.<p>

It was also nights like this that reminded Brittany of home. The winters in New York rivaled those of Ohio, and that was somehow comforting. Tonight, the air was still and warmer, but she could sense the impending cold front that was quickly approaching. After a short break from the recent snow and cold weather, she was ready for winter to show its head again. After all, she only got a few months of her favorite season before it was gone and turned into April showers that seemed to wash away the last little bit of comfort residing in her.

She walked down the busy sidewalk in no hurry to get to the address written on a crumpled up piece of paper stuffed in her pocket. She passed various shops and restaurants and lazily let her eyes wander to the beautiful displays. It was relaxing and peaceful; it reminded her of the occasions back in high school when she would be driving home from a late cheerleading practice and purposely go right past her house just so she could spend a few extra minutes in her warm car. Driving along the winding and wooded streets of Lima with soft music playing through her car speakers had been so soothing and calming. She felt that same wonder again, tonight.

Brittany knew that part of the reason she was in such a good mood was because she was alone. She seldom got a few moments to herself nowadays. There was always someplace to be, someone to see, some meeting that she was scheduled for, some obligation to her husband. Tonight, she was alone and happy to have the opportunity to clear her head.

She approached a bookstore that she had passed hundreds of times before. The store was exceedingly busier than she remembered it usually being, so she stopped to observe the hustle within. She immediately understood, and quickly reminded herself that it was Friday, and a new publication was waiting to be downloaded on her computer at home. _Tomorrow_, Brittany thought as she watched people pile in and out of the store.

Brittany looked away and took another step, continuing down the street.

When she finally arrived at the apartment building, she was immediately impressed by the size and structure. It was tall and fancy, like most apartment buildings on this side of town, and Brittany wondered how it was possible that two of her oldest friends had enough money to live in these stunning apartment complexes.

She shook her head out of the thought and entered the lobby of the building.

Brittany patiently rode the elevator up to the eleventh floor and when the door dinged, signaling that she had reached her destination, she felt a dash of nerves flare up inside her. She quickly exited the elevator compartment and turned left to walk down the long hallway.

Nathan was supposed to come with her, but had to cancel because of last minute plans with his father. Brittany instantly felt alone and uncomfortable because, as much as the blond didn't want to admit it, she remembered that she really didn't know Quinn anymore and she doubted that Santana would show up.

When she arrived at the door of the apartment she had written down earlier, she could hear the loud music and immediately turned the handle to open the door.

As she walked through the entryway, she admired the beauty and size. It wasn't quite as big as Santana's, but it definitely looked homier. At least there were paintings and photographs hanging from these walls.

When Brittany had moved close enough to notice a glass door that led out to a patio, she headed straight in that direction. She wanted to get away from the loud music and random individuals whom she didn't recognize. She shuffled her way through the busy crowd, and squeezed past a few people whose stares had turned to rest on her.

Once she reached the door, Brittany stepped through the entryway and began looking around. She could feel her nerves settling over her, but she let her gaze wander. When she found two piercing brown eyes that she knew could pick out of a crowd anywhere, she felt a smile grace her lips.

Her legs were moving before she even had the chance to tell herself to walk.

* * *

><p>Santana was breathing hard and reached for her stomach because it felt like it was rolling and doing summersaults without her permission. She wanted to be mad; she wanted to run and hide like she had done the last two times, but her feet stayed planted to the ground. Her eyes were still connected with blue ones, and she couldn't look away.<p>

Before she knew it, Brittany was standing right in front of her. The blonde's heels were adding a couple of extra inches to her height, and the Latina had to tilt her head up to keep her eyes on Brittany's.

"Hi," Brittany said, sweetly.

Santana practically melted at the one word. That voice still did things to her.

"Hello," she responded after a long pause.

Santana was surprised that the voice in the back of her head that usually told her to run at the sight of Brittany was being completely silent. She wondered whether her strong opposition to being around the blond was beginning to be desensitized. The Latina shifted her eyes away from Brittany and into the space right next to the blonde's face, so she could form a coherent thought.

"I was hoping that you would be here, but I wasn't sure if you would come," Brittany said as her smile continued to brighten her face.

Santana gulped loudly, and she was embarrassed as she felt her cheeks turn red.

"I just got here; I didn't think that you were going to show up," she stated, honestly. There was a long pause of silence between the two.

"I would apologize," Brittany finally broke the tension.

"For What?"

Brittany shifted her stance so that more of her weight was resting on her left leg. Because of the sudden movement, she wasn't standing as tall, and could almost look eye to eye with the Latina.

"Because I know that you don't want to keep running into me everywhere you go…" she trailed off as her face went sad.

Santana's expression dipped in the same way, but only briefly.

Brittany let a smile appear on her face almost instantaneously, though, and it caught Santana off guard.

"But, then I seem to have fate on my side. I think the world is trying to tell us something," Brittany nodded her head.

Santana took a long sip of her drink, finishing off her glass. When it was empty, she eyed it carefully. "I need another drink," she groaned.

"Me too," Brittany agreed in a much lighter tone.

The blond moved around Santana and to the bar that was about ten feet away. Santana took the moment to catch her breath and then turned around to watch Brittany, admiringly.

From the back, Brittany was drop-dead gorgeous. She was wearing a short, black long-sleeve dress that clung tightly above her knees. She had on high heels which accented the muscles in her never-ending legs. Her hair was tied into a bun, so her large hooped earrings weren't covered up. Santana whimpered softly; she couldn't deny the attraction that was humming within her body.

When Santana had realized that she had been staring much longer than she should have, she moved forward to stand next to the blond. She watched as the bartender mixed her drink.

"Can I have another Vodka tonic, when you're done?" Santana asked the bartender, who looked up at her with kind eyes and nodded his head.

"Sure."

"So, where's the hostess?" Brittany asked as she looked back towards Santana.

The Latina glanced back to the spot that Quinn had been standing in moments before, but the other blond was gone. She then turned around in a circle, hoping to find her best friend in the crowd of people.

"I don't know," she spoke, after she had come back around, full circle. Shrugging her shoulders, she said, "She was out here a minute ago."

The bartender handed the finished martini to the blond and smiled. "Here you go, Miss."

"Thank you," Brittany replied, nodding politely to the man.

After the blond had taken a sip of her drink, she returned her attention to Santana. "That's okay; I'm sure I'll find her later."

The two women watched each other, intently, unsure of what to say next. Their close proximity was making it extremely difficult for Santana to keep her breathing at a steady rate. They were barely a foot away from each other, and all Santana could do was stare into deep blue eyes and watch.

The blonde's scent was beginning to swarm suddenly around the Latina, who was already struggling for air. She felt faint and dizzy, and decided that she needed to take a step back for her own safety. Otherwise, she was sure that she was going to pass out.

After Santana had created some distance between the two of them, she realized that Brittany was lacking a very important accessory.

"Where's Nathan?" Santana asked.

Brittany relaxed a little at Santana's words. Though the brunette thought she had been the only one feeling the heavy air surrounding them, she had been wrong. Brittany may have looked awfully confident and composed, but on the inside, she was reeling just as much as Santana. The change in atmosphere had been just as much of a relief as it had been for the Latina.

"He had some last minute plans with his dad," Brittany sighed and took a sip of her drink.

Santana turned back to the bartender, who had her drink in his hand. She took it graciously and nodded in appreciation.

"Right…" she also took a sip of the calming alcoholic beverage. "Daddy's the Mayor. Wouldn't want to upset the big man," she smirked.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Mayor Berk is really wonderful," Brittany praised.

Santana let out a shaky laugh. "Riiiiight…" she continued to take long sips from her drink.

Santana knew a lot about politics, more than Brittany, she was sure. Santana used to write about the politics of the city sometimes, and the Latina never said anything she didn't believe whole heartedly. She would argue until the day she died that the government in the city was corrupt. And, for the most part, Mayor Berk was just a pretty face who did nothing to fix or attempt to fix any of the problems.

"He is," Brittany assured the brunette, and Santana couldn't help but grin and agree, internally, to not push the conversation further.

There was another long, quiet moment between the two, but it wasn't as overbearing this time.

Santana watched as Brittany's eyes shifted from her face down her body, and she felt self conscious all of a sudden. She wasn't dressed up as fancily as the blond, but she _had_ left her sweatshirt back at her apartment and put on some decent clothes. She shuffled her feet beneath her, trying to get comfortable under Brittany's scrutinizing gaze, but it wasn't working out well.

She wondered what Brittany was thinking. She couldn't read the blonde's expression like she usually could and that frightened her a bit.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught another blond making her way towards the two of them. Quinn looked annoyed and upset as she finally came to a halt in front of the Latina.

"Ugggh," Quinn groaned. "Someone knocked over a brand new vase that I _just _bought," she whined. "That was a three hundred dollar vase, too…" A pout spread across her face.

Santana laughed as Brittany turned to look at Quinn. She smiled and decided not to embrace the girl in a suffocating hug like she had done at Crate and Barrel the week before.

"Hi, Quinn," Brittany waved her hand.

"Hi, Brittany. I'm glad you decided to come," Quinn welcomed the blond.

"Sorry I'm so late. I had class pretty late tonight," Brittany explained, and Santana became intrigued.

"You're at Juilliard, right?" Santana asked.

The Latina remembered reading it in the wedding announcement. She didn't think that they had talked about it back at her apartment, so she wanted to know more.

"Yeah," Brittany nodded, enthusiastically. "I'm about to graduate, though. I've got a big performance coming up in a week or so, and then I'm pretty much done."

"That's so amazing, Britt," Quinn said proudly.

"I'll be one of the few who finish in only two years. I love it, being at school with all these other amazing artists, but I'm ready to start my career," Brittany admitted. "I feel like, because I got such a late start, that I'm so far behind. I'm ready to get out and live my life."

Santana carefully interpreted Brittany's words and wondered if there was some hidden message somewhere in there that even Brittany hadn't realized.

"You're not far behind, B. I'm still in school," Quinn responded, hoping to comfort the blond.

"Yeah, but you're at law school. That's totally different."

Santana was afraid to give her input because there were a lot of secrets revolving around her career. She was hesitant to even mention that she was a writer to anyone. The few times she had told someone, they had all asked her what she thought of _another_ writer who was certainly popular in the city. Another writer, who Santana had a lot of criticisms for. After all, they say an author's biggest critic is himself, or in this case, _herself_.

Brittany had found out that Santana was writing, though. And the blond had come dangerously close to discovering one of New York's greatest secrets when she had absentmindedly stepped foot into the Latina's private study. Santana had thanked herself over and over again for not leaving anything that she would officially publish lying on the desk for Brittany to gaze over.

"Well, I'll have to wait until I graduate before I feel accomplished," Quinn admitted, breaking the Latina out of her rambling thoughts. Santana sighed, loudly.

"Are we boring you?" Brittany giggled and Santana almost let out a stray tear at the beauty in that laugh.

"Yeah, _Santana,_ we can't all be successful…" Quinn was about to finish her statement before she realized that Brittany wasn't entitled to know anything about Santana and her work.

"It's okay, Quinn. I know that Santana's a writer now," Brittany interrupted, obviously unaware of the underlying conflict present. "I think it's amazing. You should totally look into getting published. I'm sure whatever you've written is genius."

Quinn let out an uncontrollable, shaky laugh. Santana turned to stare at her harshly, and the blond immediately shut her mouth.

Santana decided that she would play it off and change the subject, but before she could, Brittany interrupted her.

"I was wondering, only because I passed some bookshop on the way here, but…"

"Hey, Santana, can you go find Puck for me? I think he wandered off somewhere and I need to ask him something," Quinn interjected before Brittany even had time to finish her thought and say the name that was certainly taboo.

Santana sighed and relaxed immediately at the blonde's quick thinking.

"Uhhh…yeah. I'll be right back," Santana replied, before she quickly scurried off. Though Quinn had asked for Puck, Santana knew that it was just a cover. She would take a trip into the kitchen, snack off of a few platters, and then return to her best friend and Brittany.

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><p>A few minutes later, after Santana deemed it safe to go back out to the patio, she left the kitchen and walked back outside.<p>

Quinn and Brittany were still standing in front of the bar, and Santana smiled. Her drink was already gone, and she needed another.

After Santana had gotten another full glass, she stepped over to the two blond women and looked towards Quinn with grateful eyes.

"Sorry, Q. I couldn't find him," Santana lied. She had seen Puck inside. He was busy talking to the same artist that she had seen him with before.

"That's okay. I'll find him later," Quinn played along.

"I'd like to meet him, too," Brittany said. "What does _he _do?" she inquired.

"Oh," Quinn paused a minute to wave goodbye to some other friend who was now leaving. "He's in the music industry. He just started up a label last year and it's kind of taken off," Quinn finished after her attention had turned back to her friends.

"That's so cool," Brittany stated, impressed.

"Yeah, he's so good at what he does. You'll have to talk to him. Though. I will warn you…" Santana dropped her voice down, as if she didn't want Quinn to hear her next words. She was sure that the blond would, anyways. "He's kind of an ass," Santana smiled as she continued to drink. Quinn's face turned into a scowl momentarily, but she ended up smiling too because deep down she knew Santana was right.

At this point, Santana looked around and noticed that there were way fewer people outside. The music that had been blaring inside had now turned down, and it seemed like most of the guests were leaving or getting ready to leave.

"I better go inside so I can say goodbye to people," Quinn stated.

After Quinn left, Santana and Brittany stood and took the moment to appreciate the calm night.

"See…" Brittany started, and Santana found two familiar eyes again. "This wasn't so bad, was it?"

Santana was stubborn, and she knew Brittany knew this about the Latina as well. But, deep down, Santana didn't mind giving Brittany the satisfaction of being right. Maybe it was because of the alcohol that was in her system, maybe it was because Quinn was there, or maybe it was because it was a beautiful night and the city was there to comfort her. But deep down, Santana knew that no matter how much it hurt to stand close to Brittany and know that she was married and taken, Santana really did love spending time with the blond. The only reason that the Latina had been trying to avoid Brittany was because it hurt to think of what she no longer had. It hurt to be constantly reminded with just a look to a single hand, that their past had robbed them of some semblance of future happiness together.

But, that wasn't correct either. It wasn't correct because _Santana_ had screwed up back in high school. _Santana_ had done the unthinkable, not fate. Yeah, they had lost their possible future together, which would have made Santana the happiest woman in the world. But, it had been Santana's wrong doing that had cost her. Maybe that was the real source of the pain: knowing that it was her fault that Brittany wasn't with her anymore; that it was her fault that Brittany was married and in love with another person.

"No, B. It was nice," she responded, solemnly.

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><p>A little while later, and after she had moved on from glasses of alcohol, Santana was sitting on the carpet floor with a bottle of Vodka between her legs. Every few minutes, she would take a swig and return the bottle to her lap.<p>

All the other guests had left by this point. It was just Puck, Santana, Quinn, and Brittany, all sitting in a circle on the soft carpet in the living room. They were playing Hearts and being kind of rowdy, laughing and screaming when someone said something ridiculous or funny. Most of the time, it was Brittany who said something so _Brittany_ that none of them could hold in their laughter.

Santana wasn't the only one drinking. The bartender had handed over the remaining alcohol before he left and the four of them had taken their picks. Vodka was Santana's first choice, _always_. Brittany had taken the tequila, and Puck and Quinn were sharing a huge bottle of rum. Santana couldn't remember being this drunk in a long time. She knew that if she was sober she would feel guilty, but right now, all she could do was relax and feel like nothing was tying her down.

"I win!" Brittany yelled, as she moved her hand to the cards and pulled them into a messy pile in front of her. Santana chuckled and Puck shook his head, annoyed.

"We weren't even finished yet," he complained, turning his eyes to Quinn, hoping to get some sort of agreement from her. Quinn was laughing too, so he figured she was too drunk to care.

"It's fine, Britt. Puck's just a sore loser," Santana stated, smiling at the mow-hawked man as she took a sip of vodka.

"I'm tiiiiiired," Brittany whined as she began crawling closer to the brunette and her eyes looked droopy all of a sudden.

Santana watched as the blond found her, cross-legged and staring adoringly, and practically crawled into her lap.

Santana could smell the alcohol coming off of Brittany's breath and it stung a little. She leaned back, placing her arms behind her to support her weight. She them proceeded to look up at Brittany with affectionate eyes. Santana smiled.

"Hi, San," Brittany reached up to brush a few pieces of stray hair that had fallen into the brunette's face. "I reeeeeally missed you," Brittany slurred as she placed her head down into the small space between the Latina's shoulder and chin. She then wrapped her arms around the smaller girl and hugged her shoulders tightly.

"Are we friends again?" Santana heard the blond mumble before she looked up to see Puck and Quinn staring at her, apologetically.

After the sudden change in positions, Santana was trying her best to not lean into the blond and give in to the closeness that her drunken state was quite comfortable with. So, instead, she placed her hands on the blonde's waist and used all her power to hoist Brittany up and out of her lap again. It was much harder to do because she was drunk.

When the blonde was kneeling in front of Santana with her eyes all loopy, Santana got to her feet slowly.

"I think it's time to go," Santana placed her hands on her hips to stare down at the beautiful creature who had just curled up into a fetal position on the ground.

"What are you gonna do with her?" Puck asked, nodding to the passed out girl on the floor.

Santana hadn't thought about it until now. She didn't know where Brittany lived, so taking her back to her own place wasn't a viable option.

"I guess she's coming home with me," Santana shrugged and sighed.

Puck got to his feet rather quickly, which surprised Santana.

"I'll carry her. Do you want to go call a cab?" Puck asked as he moved towards Brittany.

"Yeah," Santana responded.

She stumbled down the hall and to the front door. Her vision was a little blurry, and she definitely couldn't walk in a straight line, but she somehow managed to get past the door, through the hallway, down the elevator, and into the lobby in only a few minutes.

She walked out the complex's front door and looked back and forth down the street for a nearby cab.

She finally got the attention of one riding past the building by the time Puck had carried Brittany outside to meet her. They all crawled into the cab and directed the man down the few blocks to the Latina's apartment building. They didn't say a word to each other the whole time.

* * *

><p>After Santana unlocked her apartment door, Puck followed her in. He then took Brittany down the hall to the only bedroom in the apartment. Santana waited in the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, hoping that somehow it would prevent the massive hangover she knew she would surly face in the morning.<p>

"She's out, cold," Puck said as he finally emerged from the hallway.

"Thanks, Puck," Santana replied. As much as Noah could be an asshole, he could also be an amazing man. Santana had no questions when it came to what Quinn saw in the guy.

"Look, Lopez…" Santana eyed Puck carefully. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier this week. I get that you still have a lot of issues and I wanted to apologize for being so quick to judge…even though I've known you for a while," Puck smiled and Santana nodded her head.

"I really appreciate it, Puck," Santana shot him a grin. "Do you want some money for a cab ride back to your place?" Santana asked, feeling sorry for making him come this far out of his way.

"No thanks, I think I'll walk," he said before he turned around and proceeded down the hall. Santana heard a tired goodbye before the door closed behind him.

After turning off all the lights, Santana took her time walking down the hallway to her bedroom. She was careful to keep her balance so she wouldn't slam into a wall and wake up the blond sleeping in her bed.

_In my bed_, Santana thought, and she immediately felt her insides squirm. This was bad news.

When Santana opened the door to her bedroom, she saw that Puck had laid the blond sideways on top of her bed. He had kindly left the pre-sleeping routine for the Latina to take care. This was what Santana was dreading.

She made her way to the bed and stared down at Brittany with wide eyes. The blond was snoring slightly, and Santana was reminded of the comforting sound that she had once used to fall asleep to. Brittany was drooling a little, and Santana let out a small sigh at how adorable Brittany was.

It wasn't until a few minutes later that Santana began to undress the blond, slowly. She reached for the shoes first, and pulled Brittany's feet out of the heels like they were the most delicate things in the world. She placed them in a chair in the corner of the room.

Then, she carefully pulled Brittany into a sitting position and began to scrunch up the dress to the blonde's waist, so she could eventually lift it over her shoulders.

The tight dress came off, after a bit of struggle, and Santana laid Brittany back down on her bed. She folded the dress neatly and placed it on top of the girl's shoes. When she turned back around, she couldn't help but stare. Santana shook her head back and forth because she knew it was wrong; she knew it was another one of fate's recent cruel punishments. Having Brittany laid out in front of her, all bare and sexily clad in black lacy underwear was slowly dragging Santana out of her drunken state and back into the bitter world of sobriety.

She then reminded herself that it was her fault that she was in this situation, and she turned to walk to the dresser and pulled out a large t-shirt.

Santana made her way back to the snoring beauty, and pulled on the girl's shoulders again so she could cover the only body that ever called for Santana's touch. She pulled back the covers and pulled Brittany up and under them.

After tucking the blond in, Santana walked into her bathroom to go through her nightly ritual of washing and brushing.

She returned to the bedroom shortly after to undress herself and pull on her own shorts and t-shirt. When she was done, she stood and stared at the bed that she was supposed to go and lay in, and she wanted to cry.

If she had had another bedroom, she wouldn't have even thought twice about sleeping in the other bed. Unfortunately, she didn't. Santana only had a very uncomfortable couch outside that she didn't want to have to crash on because she had a perfectly comfy king-sized bed in her room. The only problem was that she felt really awkward crawling into bed with Brittany.

Even though she had done it a thousand times before, she still felt like it was somehow wrong. It wasn't because the temptation was there, because Santana was pretty sure she could control that side of herself fairly well. It was because she felt like she would be making a statement about her relationship with Brittany to the blonde, herself.

Brittany wanted to be friends after all this time, and Santana still felt like that was something that she couldn't afford to give. Getting into bed with Brittany would mean admitting that there was something between the two of them again, even if it wasn't romantic. Sure, she was beginning to feel easier around the blond. And sure, she wasn't running away faster than a runaway car down the highway at the sight of the girl, either. But that didn't mean that she wanted to be friends; that didn't mean that she wasn't still hurting.

Santana knew that it was partly because of Nathan and partly because of her left over anger towards Brittany. But most importantly, Santana knew that it was because she hadn't forgiven herself for what had happened so long ago. She was still so filled with self-loathing, and the Latina had realized that tonight.

So, instead of pulling back the covers on her side of the bed and curling up into the warm comfort of her mattress, Santana opened her bedroom door and walked back out into the hallway. And, instead of falling onto the uncomfortable couch and drifting off into a restless slumber, she trudged up the stairwell to her loft. And, instead of getting any rest or sleep at all, Santana sat down at her desk to write.


	9. Chapter 9

**I hope you guys like this chapter, but I'm not really sure about it. I originally had this chapter being _much_ longer, but I decided to split it up. So, in light of that, I promise to have the next chapter up before Sunday. I'm sorry for any mistakes, and please leave a review so I know what you think.**

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><p>Brittany awoke to two loud poundings. One was coming from her head every time she moved even the slightest bit. The other, she was pretty sure, was coming from outside the bedroom she only briefly remembered being carried into the previous night.<p>

"Ughhh," she groaned as the poundings, both the one in her head and the one coming from the hallway, seemed to grow louder. Instinctively, she put her hands to her ears and planted her face back into the soft pillow beneath her head.

After a few minutes of the same raucous sounds, Brittany finally got to her feet.

She looked down at her body, and tried to remember changing out of her clothes and into a t-shirt that she didn't recognize, but she couldn't. Someone else had undressed her and put the shirt on. Though she couldn't remember who, Brittany could tell by the smell of the room. Actually, the minute the blond had woken up she had recognized the familiar scent coming from the soft sheets that surrounded her. It was a smell that made her heart grow a few sizes and turned her legs to jelly. It was the smell of Santana.

After gaining her balance and strength, the blond proceeded to exit the bedroom and walk down the hallway. The hardwood floors were cold against her bare feet, so she moved fast to the source of the continuing pounding and knocking.

When Brittany had reached the entryway into the familiar apartment, she found that the front door was currently separating her from the incessant loud noises. Some girl was screaming, and Brittany winced.

"Santana Lopez! Open this damn door. NOW!" a shrilled voice pierced the blonde's ears.

Without even thinking, she threw open the door.

A smaller brunette that Brittany didn't recognize was standing at the entrance to Santana's apartment. The blond watched as the girl's brows furrowed and mouth dropped. Brittany squinted her eyes as she observed the brunette further. She looked all proper and book-smart with her sweater vest and glasses.

"Uh," the smaller girl choked out at the sight of the meagerly clad blond in front of her. "Where's Santana?" the girl finally managed to ask.

Brittany rubbed her forehead and thought about the question. The Latina hadn't been in bed with her, and Brittany was pretty sure that she hadn't seen Santana lying on the couch, either.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," the blond answered, cringing at the words. She turned in her tracks and walked back into the living room and let her eyes wander around the extremely bright area. The blond was beginning to really hate those windows that she had thought were so nice the first time she had been in this room.

The smaller girl hesitantly followed Brittany into the apartment after closing the door behind her. She watched the blond curiously and became even more confused at the blonde's seemingly perplexed expression.

"I don't think she's here," Brittany finally spoke, having turned back to face a quizzical stare.

"That's impossible. Santana texted me last night and told me to be here at eight," the brunette explained, shaking her head.

"Who are you?" Brittany asked.

The girl hesitated, but finally spoke after a few long seconds. "I'm Rachel," she said.

"Hmmm," Brittany nodded her head and studied the guest carefully. There was something unusual about the girl, and the blond was impressed that she had picked it out with the monstrous hangover looming over her. Rachel seemed uncomfortable and unsure, and Brittany didn't know what to do.

"I'm Brittany," she stated, carefully.

"I know," Rachel nodded her head, and Brittany scrunched her eyes again, confused.

Rachel didn't know a lot about the blond; she had only heard a few minor details from Quinn when she had asked out of curiosity. Santana had been unwilling to share any information regarding the girl, and Rachel was too interested to let it be.

But, Rachel _did_ know, and there was no hesitation in the thought, that it was awfully strange that Brittany was _here_, in Santana's apartment with no clothes on, on a Saturday morning.

"I think I'll go upstairs. I bet that's where she is…" Rachel said before turning to walk across the floor to the spiral staircase in the corner of the room that Brittany had totally forgotten about.

Brittany watched as the smaller girl disappeared into the loft above, and turned to go back to go into the bedroom to get dressed.

* * *

><p>When the blond entered the kitchen again she saw Santana sitting at the counter, spooning out a bowl of cereal.<p>

Her hair was in disarray, frizzed and sticking out in a million different directions. Her eyes were lost, and the bags beneath them told Brittany that she hadn't gotten any sleep. Though she was an obvious mess and looked like hell, Brittany couldn't help but think in the back of her mind that Santana was still the prettiest girl she had ever seen.

Brittany let out a deep sigh and laughed quietly. Santana looked up to meet the source of the sound.

"You look hung-over," the blond smirked and walked around the island to sit down at the stool next to Santana.

Santana laughed in response to the blonde's statement. "You know…" she stopped to take a sip of her coffee. "You _really _shouldn't be talking…"

Brittany smiled because she knew the Latina was right. The blond had a headache the size of Manhattan to prove it.

They sat in silence, and Brittany thought that the quietness was beginning to become an overwhelming constant occurrence between the two of them. She turned to look out the window, and was glad that she could now enjoy the breath-taking view since her eyes had adjusted to the light slightly.

She quickly remembered the reason that she had been woken up so unfairly this morning.

"Where's Rachel?" Brittany asked, as she got back to her feet and walked to the coffee maker that was calling for her.

Santana watched the blond and continued to eat. "She's gone," she replied.

When Brittany had turned back to face the Latina, she stared into dark brown eyes. "Who is she?" Brittany asked, curiously.

Santana bit her lip before she could respond; she wanted to carefully think about how she was going to answer. Of course, she couldn't tell the truth.

"Oh…she's just a friend. I had to give her something, but she's gone now," Santana smiled and returned her attention to her breakfast.

"What were you doing upstairs?"

Santana looked up to meet light blue eyes and stared again.

"Just…writing," Santana tried to sound indifferent.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

"No," Santana answered.

Brittany waited for some further explanation from the brunette, but none came. She could see the hesitation in Santana's expression and it was a little unnerving.

"I wouldn't have minded…" Brittany started. She would have finished the sentence, but she assumed that Santana would get what she was trying to say.

"I know," Santana smiled, knowingly. "But…I would have." The Latina got to her feet and turned to walk back into her bedroom down the hall. The whole way, she could feel an intense gaze following her every movement until she was out of sight.

When she was in her bedroom, she shut the door and took a deep breath.

Brittany was still standing in the kitchen; her eyes were on the door that had just closed.

With three simple words, she felt frustrated and annoyed at how far she still had to go to get what she wanted.

What she wanted was to make things right between her and Santana again. After two years of imaginable heartache, two years of hating herself, and another year of slowly learning to love again, Brittany felt like she was ready to give Santana the one thing she had not been willing to deliver years ago. But, every time she came remotely close to saying what she was so desperate to say, Santana would take a few steps back and run away.

It was almost as if the Latina _didn't want_ to hear it, and that baffled the blond the most.

Brittany could still remember the last time they had seen each other before Santana had moved away to New York. She hated to think about it, but she could remember every tiny bit so clearly. She could remember how angry she had been, how mad she was that she still loved Santana so much, even after the brunette had broken her heart into a million pieces and thrown it into the garbage like it meant nothing.

She could remember the desperate look on her face when Santana had touched her and kissed her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Santana had been so desperate to hear the words that Brittany had been too stubborn to give.

At the time, the blond had still been too hurt, too betrayed, too embarrassed to forgive. But, after five long years, she was willing. After five long years, Brittany was ready to say the words: I forgive you. And here Santana was, acting like it was the _last _thing she wanted to hear. Brittany just couldn't understand.

Brittany felt the tears fall from her cheeks and burn her skin, just like every time she thought about that last night together.

When she saw the bedroom door begin to open, she quickly turned her head to wipe away the tears from her cheeks.

"You want to go get some coffee?" Santana asked as she moved towards Brittany. The blond turned around to face her.

Brittany laughed. "Didn't you just have some?" she asked, confused.

Santana shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, but my coffee is terrible, and I kind of have a morning ritual that I can't really give up."

Brittany smiled and nodded her head.

"Alright, let's go," Santana responded, surprisingly energetic.

The Latina walked to the hall closet to pull out her coat. When she noticed that Brittany was wearing the same thing she had the night before, she instinctively reached to grab another jacket.

"Here," Santana held out the coat to Brittany, who walked over to take it. "It's much colder this morning."

"Thanks," Brittany responded before putting her arms through the sleeves of the long, wool jacket.

* * *

><p>Brittany had never been to Earl's, but she remembered passing it several times on her way through the city. It was small and quaint, and Brittany could understand why the Latina seemed to love it so much.<p>

They were sitting at the table Santana and Quinn had shared the previous week.

"Thanks, Jake," the Latina said to the boy who had just handed her a very large cup of coffee.

The Latina had spent a few minutes at the counter talking amiably to the young boy while ordering their drinks. Brittany took notice of the Latina's friendliness and decided that Santana had changed even more than she had previously noticed.

When Brittany gave her a questioning look, Santana smiled. "What?"

"Nothing," Brittany said as she took a bite out of a scone that Jake had placed before her. The blond smirked.

For the next hour or so they sat and talked comfortably about random things, similarly to the first day at Santana's apartment. Mostly, Brittany talked about dance and Santana was perfectly content to just sit and watch her face light up at the conversation.

"So what's the plan for after you graduate?" Santana asked.

Brittany hesitated because she was definitely unsure about her post-Juilliard plans. She knew what she _wanted _to do, but every time she had suggested it to Nathan, she could see his uncertainty. She knew that he wanted to stay in New York and follow in his father's footsteps. She needed to be here to support him once he graduated and she couldn't do that if she was traveling across the country on tour.

"I'm not sure yet…" she answered, somberly.

Santana immediately caught the shift in the blonde's tone.

"I'm sure there's _something _that you want to do?" Santana raised her eyebrows.

Brittany turned her eyes up to look deeply into dark brown ones and sighed.

"Well…" she played with the crumbs of her scone before continuing. "There is something. I got an offer to join a dance group. They're really good and it would be an amazing opportunity. I would get to travel around the country and dance every night in front of huge crowds. But…"

Santana was confused. "But, what?"

"But…Nathan's here." The Latina watched as Brittany's face fell at the words.

"And?"

"Aaaand I can't just leave him. We _just _got married. We're going to Paris next month, and then his father's got a really big campaign and Nathan wants to be here. Plus he's still got school and…I can't just leave."

Brittany had almost forgotten about her honeymoon. They had been too busy to leave right after the wedding, so they had agreed to put it off a month. And, for some reason, the thought of spending a month in France was not so appealing now. With graduation just around the corner and all these job offers coming in, she was too interested in other things. And on top of all that, a certain Latina had seemed to just pop right back into her life.

"This is your life too, Brittany," Santana gave her a sympathetic, sweet smile that caused Brittany's stomach to do a small flip. "Just because you're married doesn't mean that you should be expected to give up your dreams."

Brittany knew that Santana would have been more supportive, but she still felt weird about expecting Nathan to just let her go.

The blond shook her head. "It's not enough. I have other dreams too…"

Santana watched as the blonde's words trailed off and she went lost in thought for a brief second.

"Did…" Santana coughed. "Ughh… those dreams come true?"

Brittany was brought back to reality. She had heard the words, but she had missed the Latina's concealed tone behind them.

"Most of them," she answered as she took in those mesmerizing eyes again.

They continued to look at each other deeply until Santana cleared her throat and stood up suddenly.

"I kind of have someplace to be soon, so I should probably be heading out now," she said as she looked down at the blond.

"Thanks for taking care of me last night," Brittany responded, gratefully.

"No problem," she answered, though Brittany was very sure that it was a lie.

Just as Santana was taking a step to move away, Brittany reached for her hand that was hanging casually at her side.

"Wait…" she said and Santana looked back towards her.

Before Brittany had a chance to say something, Santana spoke for her. "I'm sure I'll see you around, Britt." Santana smiled, and Brittany almost choked at the beauty behind it.

Before Brittany knew it, she was sitting alone at the table and receiving apologetic looks from Jake from across the room. As if he knew everything.

The walk back to her apartment was long, but the blond hadn't wanted to spend the money on a cab ride. She only lived about ten blocks from the coffee shop, so it wasn't that far.

Just like the night before, Brittany got lost in the hustle and beauty of the city. So, her walk ended up taking twice as long.

When she arrived at her building, she took a deep breath in because she realized that Nathan would probably be upset with her for not coming home. She hadn't called to tell him that she was going to be staying out all night, so she was a little worried.

As she opened her apartment door and walked through the entryway, she could hear Nathan on the phone. She assumed it was business, so she was quite and hoped to sneak around him to get to the bathroom.

She locked the door behind her and reached to turn on the shower. She quickly undressed and moved to stand under the cascade of warm water. Brittany felt her muscles relax and melted into the foggy air surrounding her.

A little later, when she hesitantly emerged from the bathroom with a white towel wrapped around her, she practically ran into Nathan who had been standing right outside the door.

"Oh…" she gasped quietly at the surprise. "You scared me."

Brittany moved to walk around him so she could go to their bedroom and get dressed.

"I was worried about you," Nathan said. He didn't sound angry, just relieved.

"Yeah, I was at Quinn's. I ended up drinking too much and just crashed there," Brittany lied as she reached her dresser. There was no way that she was going to tell Nathan where she had actually spent the night. It wasn't like Santana and the blond had done anything, the Latina had refused to even share a bed, but Brittany knew her husband. He was still upset for finding out that Brittany had even dated Santana; the blond wasn't going to risk giving him any reason to worry. Even if there was a reason to worry.

"Oh," Nathan replied.

"It was a fun party, though," Brittany met his gaze and smiled.

Nathan nodded and turned around. Before he left the bedroom, he looked back over his shoulder. There was curiosity sketched across his face, but Brittany was busy pulling out clothes from the dresser to notice.

"How was Santana?"

Brittany's eyes widened at the words, and she stopped moving.

"Fine," she said, still not facing Nathan.

When he left, Brittany exhaled a deep breath that she didn't even know she had been holding in.

* * *

><p>A week passed before Brittany saw Santana again. This time, though, it wasn't a coincidence at all.<p>

She had stopped by the Latina's apartment because she still didn't have her number. No matter how hard she tried to acquire the information from Quinn, the blond just wouldn't cave. She told Brittany that she had gotten into trouble with Santana the last time she had accidentally handed out her personal information.

When Santana opened the door, Brittany was surprised to find that the Latina didn't look upset or angry to see her.

"Hey," she greeted the blond as she closed the door behind her. "What's up?" she asked as she turned back to walk to the kitchen.

Brittany immediately noticed that Santana was dressed up, even more than she had been the night of Quinn's party. She was wearing a black suit and had her hair up in a tight bun. She looked very professional and Brittany wondered what the occasion was.

"Why are you all dressed up?" Brittany asked, as she joined the Latina.

Santana looked down at her outfit and smiled. "I had a meeting this morning," she answered as she turned back to look at Brittany.

This confused the blond because she didn't know what kind of meeting Santana would be attending. She was an unpublished writer, after all.

"What kind of meeting?" Brittany pressed.

Santana turned back around and rolled her eyes at the blonde's curiosity.

"Just…a meeting," she responded and opened her fridge to remove a water bottle. "So, why are you here?"

Brittany sighed and stepped forward. "I wanted to…" but before she could continue, she turned her attention to the television set that was on in the next room.

"_In a recent interview with the executive of Hummel and Hudson's Printing and Associates, Kurt Hummel shared news regarding the work of New York's very own mystery writer, S.M. King."_

The television flashed to an image of a finely dressed and angelic-faced man. Brittany recognized him from previous interviews. She was pretty sure that he was a family friend of the Berks as well.

"_King has had a huge impact on New York. His words have meant so much to the citizens of this city and even across the country. I don't think I know of one person who hasn't heard of him or read his works," Kurt laughed along with the interviewer. _

"_But, we can't expect him to keep up this success forever." Kurt's face turned solemn._

The television flashed back to the woman interviewer.

"_I guess the most important question is: when will he be back?" _

_Kurt Hummel hesitated as the camera focused on his face._

"_The truth is...I don't know," he answered._

_The interviewer's face was one of confusion. "You must know something…?"_

_Kurt chuckled and adjusted his tie. "Honestly…" he leaned forward and dropped his voice. "I don't even know _who _he is."_

_The gasp of the interviewer was hard to miss._

"_You're telling me—the whole world, in fact—that the identity of King remains a mystery even to _you_?"_

_Kurt leaned back in his chair and let his eyes wander around the room._

_He bit his lip before answering. "Yes, that is correct."_

The shot screened back to the regular station and anchors.

"_This is quite shocking" the man anchor asked, turning to his partner. _

_The woman shook her head and laughed. "You could say that…"_

"_What I can't understand is how King has hidden his identity so well for the past year and a half. That must take a lot of effort on his part."_

_The woman anchor smiled incredulously, too. "I guess that's part of the intrigue, though. It keeps people coming back for more."_

_The man nodded his head in agreement. He turned his attention back to the camera. "We will have to wait for the time being. According to Hummel, King has decided to take a break and his return date is unknown at this point."_

"_Every celebrity needs a break once in a while," the woman added._

"_Indeed."_

"_And now for today's weather…"_

Santana stared at the television set in disbelief. She brought her hand to her forehead and squeezed her temple.

"That sucks," Brittany whined as her attention turned back to the frustrated looking Latina.

"Yeah," Santana whispered under her breath.

"That's so weird, though: that even the publishing company doesn't know who King is," Brittany pondered aloud.

The Latina nodded her head in agreement. "Mmmmm."

Brittany eyed the uncomfortable brunette carefully and thought for a few seconds. After she had let the information settle in her head, she remembered the reason for her visit.

"Anyway," she finally changed the subject. "I was hoping that we could talk."

Santana met blue eyes and cringed at their beauty.

"About some _stuff_," Brittany continued. "We could go out, if you want."

Brittany wanted Santana to feel comfortable when she brought up what would surly be an _uncomfortable_ conversation.

"Ooookay," Santana responded, wavering.

Brittany smiled at Santana's agreement. Maybe she would get the chance to say what she had been holding in since the first time they had met again.

She watched as Santana moved back around the counter and to her. Brittany's breath caught as the Latina stood right in front of her. She was so beautiful.

"Okay," she said and sighed loudly.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys, sorry for the late update. This one is really short and not much better in terms of the angst, I apologize. But, next chapter's much longer and has some interesting development in it. ****So, now you have something to ponder about and look forward to after this pretty short and angsty chapter. I apologize ahead of time, but I do promise that it gets a little better from here. **

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy, leave a review to tell me what you think, and sorry for any mistakes. **

* * *

><p>The morning was frigid, like a wave of icy breath had been blown across the city skyline. It was the occasional shot of cold that randomly speared through New York at the most unpredictable times. There would be snow and then a week of warmth before the whole city tumbled back into the firm grasp of winter's unrelenting zeal.<p>

But, even though it appeared as if the city and its citizens were fast asleep due to the cold, dreary weather, there were constant exchanges unrelentingly flowing through New York's businesses and government. The city could never _actually _sleep, of course.

Nestled comfortably in a section of the city known for its busyness sat the office building where several heated arguments regarding a recently signed contract were being discussed adamantly.

"This is not okay!" A tall man who stood awkwardly at the front of the room screamed towards the board of individuals. They looked both nervous and concerned.

"We had an…" he straightened his tie and shook his head, annoyed. He was trying desperately to compose himself before he ripped some innocent person's head off. "Agreement," he finally finished, taking a deep breath.

Another man with much more poise stood up, suddenly.

"Calm down, Hudson," the man said, coolly.

"Kurt," Hudson looked up to meet the silent, nervous eyes of his business partner. "How could you allow this?" he asked, dropping a piece of paper from his hand.

The whole room's inhabitants turned their attention to the sheet as it floated from the grasp of the tall man to land on the hard, cold wood of the large meeting table. Everyone was silent, curiously waiting for Kurt's response.

"I've been out of the country for…a month—a goddamn _month_—and this is what I come back to?" He met the now-scrutinizing gaze of his partner and let his face shift into an even more unpleasant scowl.

Kurt shook his head and lowered his gaze to the sheet of paper that had been signed just this morning, only hours before. How was he supposed to tell his partner, his brother in more ways than one, that he had released their company's greatest asset so easily? How was he supposed to explain that he had given permission to a once barely recognized editor to let King do what he wished? How was he supposed to tell Finn that he had known about King's plan for a whole week, given an interview and made a legit agreement _all _behind his back? He felt ashamed, yet he couldn't help thinking that he wouldn't be _anyone _without King, so didn't they owe him everything? If he could do one thing to say thank you, wasn't this the best option? He should have known that Finn Hudson wouldn't agree.

"He didn't say that he wouldn't be back, Finn," he tried to rationalize and reason with the furious man before him. "Rachel said…" he couldn't finish before Hudson was interrupting him.

"The _editor_?" he slurred, angrily. "Since when are we taking orders from a lousy editor, Kurt?"

Hummel exhaled, heavily and stared back at Finn. How was it that Finn could be so intelligent yet dumb-witted at the same time?

"_Because_…" he took a step forward. "She's the only one who knows who King truly is. _She'_s the one with the connection. _She's _the one who gets us our stories every week," Kurt explained. "Without her…" he paused and looked around the room at the few individuals eyeing him carefully. "We wouldn't even be here."

Finn took a deep breath and ran his hand through his short brown hair. Kurt watched as the anger slowly fled from his face.

"What did _Rachel_ say?" he winced at the name.

Kurt gave a gentle smile and nodded as he watched his brother accept the truth behind his own words.

"Rachel said that King is too distracted at the moment to write. She said that he's not in the right mindset," Kurt took another step to the front of the room so he was standing next to the taller man. He turned to face the group of people, and he lifted his jacket pocket so he could remove the single piece of folded up paper that had been handed to him an hour before he had entered the room.

He placed it on top of the contract that was lying alone on the table.

"That was the latest chapter—the last issue," he said, looking at it carefully, remembering the words that had been etched across it and his own response after reading it. He could hear the peaked interest of his fellow workers as they whispered to each other.

"It's bad," he said, as if he couldn't believe it himself. "It was…" it was so hard for him to even admit what he felt about the most emotionless, dry…worthless piece of writing he had ever read. He shook his head and finished his statement. "It was _terrible_," he said and the others face's turned into incredulous bewilderment.

He turned to face his partner and shook his head, yet again.

"I know you don't want to hear it, Finn. But, I would rather not have King at all, than have him writing like _this. _He means too much; his words mean too much to this city's people, _our _readers," he explained.

He watched as Finn's face turned from disbelief to confusion.

The tall man took the piece of paper that Kurt had lay down and folded it to its original size. He kept his attention on the man as he put it in his pocket, just like Kurt had.

He was too stubborn to believe that King, the man whose words had changed his life, was now worthless. He was desperate to leave the room and enter his office so he could tear through the words like he usually did. He needed to find out for himself.

"We're not publishing it, Finn," Kurt said, firmly, as if he could tell what the other man was thinking.

"I'll decide for myself," Finn answered back before turning and exiting the silent room.

Kurt stood and watched him leave; all the while thinking about the last words that King had written and wondering what had been running through his mind as he had typed them out.

* * *

><p>"They're soooo good, San," Brittany smiled, happily. Santana winced at the way the name had rolled so easily off the blonde's tongue.<p>

"Okay, fine," she rolled her eyes at Brittany's odd excitement.

"Yay!" she jumped in her seat a little and turned her attention towards an overweight man who was baking what looked like ridiculously delicious cupcakes.

"Hey David?" the man turned to look at the two girls. "We'll have the waffles," she shifted in her chair to look back at Santana and eyed her carefully, as if she was making a decision. "With _extra _strawberries and whipped cream. Just pile it on, Dave," she joked, laughing.

Santana's eyes danced with unfamiliar wonder that Brittany saw, but had remained unconsciously unnoticed by Santana. The Latina started pulling at her blouse when she noticed Brittany's intrigued face.

She felt odd, sitting in a small bakery in her spiffy suit and heels. She wasn't used to wearing anything other than cotton t-shirts, sweatshirts, and jeans. She wished that she had changed before she had agreed to follow Brittany out of her apartment and into the chilled winter air.

"So, what is this place?" Santana asked, looking around at the tiny, cute shop.

Brittany giggled and sighed. "It's my place, Santana," she explained. Santana raised a questioning eye.

"You know, like Earl's is _your _place. This," she motioned around her. "Is mine," she smiled, brightly.

Santana continued to watch the blond, trying with all her might to not think that every single thing she did was adorable and just so…_Brittany. _She could easily admit it to herself that the blond was still the same person that she had known so long ago—still so carefree and gentle.

Still, it burned to be so close to her. She didn't think there would ever be a point where she could look at Brittany again and not feel pain, even if it was stuffed back into the deepest pit of her mind and soul.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Brittany stated, oddly serious.

Santana took a deep breath because there were about a dozen things Brittany could say that would make her do the one thing she hadn't managed to do in a while: run.

The Latina nodded her head, giving permission for Brittany to continue.

"It's about…," Brittany hesitated. She had gone over what she was going to say so many times that it had ended up like an annoying circuit on repeat inside her head. Only this time she couldn't remember what it was that she had so desperately memorized.

"Us," she managed before gulping loudly. Santana winced at the word.

"And what happened before you left, before you moved here," she finished the thought, trying to gauge the Latina's reaction closely before continuing.

"And I was thinking that I wanted to say sorry," Brittany admitted as she dropped her gaze to the table. She ran her fingers along the crevices in the tiles, nervously. She was afraid to look up and meet Santana's gorgeously deep brown eyes.

Santana winced again; her breathing was beginning to pick up. This was one of those exact conversations that she had been trying so hard to avoid. First at her apartment, then in the bathroom at the restaurant, Quinn's party, Earl's—all of those times she had managed to keep their words as far from their past as possible. And Santana was usually so good with words, being an amazingly successful writer and all. But now all she could think about was the distance between their table and the door.

They waited, both two afraid to say anything else. Santana wished now that she had made up some lame excuse as to why she couldn't come. She knew that the little progress she had made with Brittany was now shriveling back up, but it was better than listening to Brittany apologize like it was her fault. Because nothing was her fault, not ever.

"And I wanted to say that I forgive you, San," Brittany looked up, hoping to meet eyes with the Latina, but Santana's face was turned towards the door. The blonde shook her head and sighed.

_Get up. Run. Get up. Run. Get up. Run. Get up. Run. Get up. Run. Run Santana, fucking run. _She continued to chant the repeating phrase in her head over and over again. She kept telling herself to get up and move from her chair, but for some reason, her body remained planted in her seat.

"I know you were looking for that when we were…" she trailed off, knowing that Santana could finish the sentence in her own head. "But I was still too hurt to say it."

_Get up. Run. Get up. Run. Get up. Run. Get up. Run. Get up. Run. Run Santana, fucking run._

Still, no movement.

_Why can't I move from this fucking chair?_

"And I'm sorry that I did that to you. I know how horrible it must have made you feel, and…I'm sorry," Brittany finished. It was far from the original words that she had planned out, but she was relieved enough that she had managed at all.

Santana's head was still turned towards the door. She was hearing what Brittany was saying; and though she should have been happy with Brittany's confession, all she could feel was anger.

Anger was throbbing at her heart and boiling in the pit of her stomach. She was so ridiculously mad at Brittany for taking away _her own _ blame. It was _hers._

"Santana?" Brittany inquired. She could only see half of the Latina's face, and she needed some sort of confirmation that she was okay.

"Don't," Santana said, harshly. If she wasn't so pissed at the blond, she would have bit her tongue to punish herself for being so rude.

"Don't what, Santana?" Brittany commented, her tone much more annoyed. She thought she knew what was going through the Latina's mind. Santana was not one to receive forgiveness so easily, especially when she had been wrong too.

"I'm trying to tell you that I'm not mad at you any more," Brittany said, like it was the simplest thing in the world to understand. "I…forgive…you," she continued, leaving time between each word, emphasizing her message.

Santana shook her head, and Brittany reached out to grab one of the Latina's hands. Once Santana felt the blonde's touch, she pulled her arm away so that it was placed in her lap.

"And I _really_ want us to be friends again," the blond finished. It was the last important thing she hoped to reiterate, and she meant it so fucking much.

She desperately wanted to have the Latina back in her life. Ever since the day she left, there was something missing in her soul and in her heart—a little piece that was meant and saved for Santana and only Santana. And as much as she loved Nathan and cherished what they had together, Santana was always going to be a part of her, one of the most important parts of her.

"I can't," Santana chocked out.

The Latina kept playing unwelcomed reels of the two of them together back in high school. Their closeness and relationship had been barely short of perfect before she had gone and fucked it up. Brittany didn't know that she was still completely in love with her, and Santana accepted that. She knew that her feelings no longer meant anything to Brittany, not after all this time. But friendship? That was completely out of the question.

If it was impossible to stop loving her and impossible to forgive herself for what she had done, there was no way that they could be friends. No way.

"I just can't Brittany," she finalized. She took in a deep breath to compose herself, and she turned around to face Brittany again. Her raging fury was no longer present, only pitiful content.

Brittany watched the sincerity in the Latina's tone, and she shut her eyes closed.

"Two waffles with extra strawberries and whipped cream. Also, I brought a bunch of syrup, just like you like Britt," David placed the plates in front of the couple, completely unaware of the silent exchange that was occurring before him.

"Thanks," Brittany said as she opened her eyes and watched Santana reach for the syrup before dumping it over her towered-high breakfast.

"Yum," Santana said, as she licked her lips and smiled.

In the back of her mind, she was thinking about the plane ticket that she was going to be buying when she returned to her apartment.


End file.
